Bachelorette Party
by EmpireofDarkness
Summary: It's a night that she's been dreading for a long while now, her bachelorette party. At least it is until he walks into her life... As for him, it's just another night, just another bachelorette party that he was hired to dance for. At least until she answers the door and takes his breath away... This is a Modern AU where Padmé is the bride-to-be and Anakin's the male stripper...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: No idea where this Modern AU came from but it got stuck in my head and I decided to write it down. This was originally going to be a one-shot but then I started writing it and decided that I may have a real story come from it and I decided to make it much longer. This first chapter is the reason why it's named the way it is and is in Padmé's first person pov but the next will be in Anakin's and we'll alternate between chapters.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

 **Bachelorette Party: Chapter One**

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I've been dreading this night for a _long_ time. Not my upcoming wedding that is just next week but my bachelorette party that my maid of honor, Dormé had planned. The last thing I was expecting was to have the party at her place. I thought she'd drag me out to a night club or even worse, a male strip club.

I wouldn't put anything past her.

But a nice party at her house with our lady friends is a welcome reprieve. It's a night to get drunk and just let loose, put the stress of the wedding on the back burner along with work and just enjoy the night.

The doorbell rings, Dormé is in the kitchen doing something and the other women are just sitting around, not even standing to see who it is. "I guess I'll get that," I announce to anyone who's listening and stand up from my spot on the couch and move to answer the door, my beer in hand. I open the door to be face to face with a police officer.

"Evening ma'am," the officer says, his cerulean blue eyes locked onto mine. "We've received a 911 call about a loud music complaint."

"Oh," I say, not even thinking the music is up that loud. Maybe what they heard was _Sabé's_ loud voice, she insists she doesn't yell, she just talks loud... especially when she's drunk. "I'm sorry, officer. I'll go turn it down."

The officer just raises a thick dark blond eyebrow, he takes off his hat to reveal short dark blond hair that is lighter than his eyebrows and holds it in the crook of his left arm against his chest. "I'm going to have to come in and take a look around." He says, I stand to the side to let him in. "What are you pretty ladies celebrating tonight?"

"It's actually my bachelorette party." I tell him, walking behind him into the living room where the _ladies_ are finally noticing our... _guest_. "I'm getting married next week."

He nods, looking around before turning and putting his beautiful blue eyes back on me. "I see, so you must be Miss Naberrie." How does he know my name? I nod, not wanting to lie to a cop. "Well, Miss Naberrie-"

"Padmé."

"Padmé," he says in a way that makes my insides quiver. His eyes darken in lust as he looks me up and down, his eyes finally finding mine again. "You wouldn't happen to have another one of _those_ , would you?"

"Yeah, we do." I say, surprised that a cop is asking for a beer while on duty. But who I am to refuse those beautiful blue eyes and just hearing him talk... I'd love to hear him keep talking, keep saying my name. "Here," I hand him a bottle that was sitting on the table, unopened and still cold.

He pulls out his keys and uses a bottle opener attached to his key chain to pop off the cap. "Thank you, Padmé." I'm sure a shudder runs through me, if I wasn't getting married... I may just ask him to join me in bed. I'm sure he'd gladly oblige. But I am and thoughts like that shouldn't be entering my mind even if he has gorgeous long muscular arms that are almost too big for the uniform shirt he's wearing. Those long muscular legs are hiding beneath his uniform pants but his thighs are so big, so muscular they look like they're a size or two too small. His face is like a masterpiece of art, his dimples, his cleft chin and strong, sharp muscular jaw. I'd have no doubt he can show me a good time. I'm almost regretting he won't show me it until he's guzzling down the whole bottle of beer and tossing his hat into the group of ladies who scream and jump over each other trying to catch it and he places his empty bottle down on the coffee table.

What's going on here?

"We've gotten a call, Padmé and the complaint was that you were a very... very, _naughty_ girl." Oh, no. He walks closer to me and starts to slowly, _erotically_ unbutton his uniform short sleeve shirt, swaying his hips and shoulders in a masculine way as he does that makes my eyes go wide and watch his every move. The ladies are yelling, already throwing money at him and this is when I realize he isn't a cop.

He's a _male stripper_ that Dormé must've hired. This is exactly what I expected and exactly what I was dreading. But I have to admit, she has good tastes and I suddenly can't wait to see him undressed and dancing all over me.

He takes my hand in his as he finally unbuttons the last button on his black shirt and runs my hand up and down his strong muscular chest and six pack abs. "Like what you feel?" He asks, low and husky. His voice pure sex going right down to my core. I nod, unable to answer. He shrugs his broad muscular shoulders and the shirt falls off. I'm sure I'm drooling, I've never seen a chest or abdomen like _that_ , nevermind felt them. He continues to run my hand up and down his chest and abdomen and I don't want him to stop. I suddenly want him to run my hand up and down... _other_ parts of his body.

That musing is cut off though when he unbuckles his duty belt and lets it fall from his hips and down to the floor before kicking it to the side, out of the way. Then he unhooks the belt holding up his pants, though I'm sure he doesn't need it with how tight his pants already are around him. He pulls it off and with both hands on the ends, he swings it over my head and down my lower back and pulls me flush against him. The ladies give catcalls and are yelling incessantly in enjoyment and truth be told, surprisingly, I am enjoying this too.

He grinds his hips against mine and- _oh_. _My_. _God_. I can feel him _hard_ and _big_ rubbing up against me and fuck. I want him. I want him now especially with the way he continues to grind up against me rubbing his - what I _imagine_ to be a perfect dick - up and around my entrance and belly. His head leans closer to mine and all I can smell is _him_. He smells of the beer he just drank, spearmint and sex. Yes he smells of pure sex and I want to experience that with him, even if it is wrong on oh so many levels but this is a man who knows his body and he's turning me on without even really touching me.

I haven't known him for even five minutes and I don't even know his name but he's made more excited in just this short amount of time than Rush ever had, than _any_ man ever had.

"It's okay to touch," he whispers into my ear. "Just not my _big_ , _hard_ dick or I won't be _responsible_ for my actions." His voice still full of pure sex and those words... I may just orgasm from his words and tone alone.

Taking my mind off his _big, hard dick,_ I rub my hands along him, the ladies obviously love it. Their catcalls are getting louder by the second and their standing up around the couches to get a closer look at this fine ass specimen of man standing before me. My hands glide along his muscular chest and I gasp when he flexes his pecs, oh my god, this man. His body is a work of art, something akin to those Greek God sculptures. He's _absolutely_ flawless.

He finally lets go of the belt and lets it fall to the floor and he reaches for my hands and guides me to unbutton his pants for him and to unzip the zipper of his fly. He rubs my hand along his obvious _hard_ bulge and he hisses at the contact, arching his hips forward as he does. He lets go of my hands, kicks off his shoes and slowly, erotically - everything about this man is erotic - takes off his pants to reveal what I knew were going to be long muscular legs. They'd have to be, the rest of him is muscular beyond belief and with the way his thighs looked like they were going to break free of his pants it was easy to see how big they were. Not to mention he's an easy six foot two, his legs would have to be long. Stepping out of his pants, he throws them into the group of ladies who jump for them.

Now the sexy stranger that I'd _like_ to _fuck_ is standing before me completely _almost_ naked. He's just wearing a black male thong that does absolutely _nothing_ to cover up how big he is. And man is he _big_. Feeling him grind up against me and my hand rubbing his _bulge_ told me he was big but seeing him just covered in a thong, if I wasn't drooling before then I definitely am now.

The catcalls and yelling get louder and he looks me up and down, his blue eyes which are definitely darker and more lust-filled than they were earlier, feel like they're burning into me. His lips curl into a smile, his dimple growing on his left cheek. I swear my heart flip-flops in my chest. I shouldn't have feelings for this man. I'm supposed to be getting married but fuck, how can I _not_ have feelings for a man who's only job tonight is to please me especially when he's the hottest man I've ever seen and when his body and dick are literally calling _my_ name? If we were alone we definitely wouldn't be eye-fucking each other, I know that much.

With his long muscular arms, he reaches out and lifts me up over his shoulder with ease, cave man style and brings me over to the recliner on the other side of Dormé's large living room. The ladies follow us over and continue throwing money at him while their catcalls and yelling get incessantly louder, as if they're not already loud enough. He sits me down on the recliner and smiles at me as he jumps up on the recliner almost knocking us over but managing not too and he gets as low to me as he can, so close I can feel his body heat and he begins to dance. For a man so large, I wouldn't expect him to be able to dance the way he does but he _can_ most definitely dance. His movements are graceful and _very_ intimate, with his dick swinging very close to my face and I reach out and rub my hands up and down his immaculate body again. Anything to keep the things I'd like to do to him out of my mind or I'll cancel the wedding and run off with this hunk of a man.

I'm sure I'd enjoy it too. Sex with this man would _have_ to be incredible.

The recliner rocks under us as he keeps his balance and dances closer and _closer_ to me. So close that he's rubbing his hot as fuck body against mine in a way that's definitely turning me on, well turning me on even more since I'm _already_ turned on. His dick brushes against my breasts, I'm sure it was on purpose and I feel my breasts swell, nipples harden and start to feel more slick between my thighs. The effect this man has on me is like no other. I've never been as turned on or as flustered or as sexually frustrated as I am right now. He must know the effect he has on me for he dips lower and brushes his sweaty face against mine, close enough for the sweat dripping down his face to rub off onto mine.

"You like that?" He whispers low enough for only me to hear. His darkened eyes lock onto mine and he jumps off the recliner and lands back on his feet without even missing a beat.

My eyes stay locked on his the whole time, his eyes captivating mine in a way no one elses ever has. Everything about _him_ seems to captivate me like nothing I've ever experienced before. This man is the devil reincarnate, he has to be with the way he's making me think, the way he's making me _feel_.

"I'll take _that_ as a yes." He says leaning close to me, continuing to give me a show. No one was ever willing enough to make me feel like this, that even in a room full of women, _I_ have his full attention. I wonder if that is just him doing his job or if those lust-filled eyes want to do to me what _I_ want to do to _him_.

Smiling up at him, I nod. "Then you'd be correct," I say just as low back to him. He grins a devilish grin and turns around, bends over and rubs his ass up against me. Normally, I'd be offended by such a thing or turned off but his ass is just as immaculate as the rest of him. I don't know what he does to keep his body in such great shape but I am definitely enjoying his effort. Having never done this before, I smile mischievously and slap his ass. The ladies around me love that, all of them knowing that I wouldn't normally do something like that, not even with just me and Rush _alone_. There are things I'm shy about, sex is one of them. I'm not exactly _shy_ about sex but I don't like to talk about it with them and I definitely don't normally do _this_ but something about this sexy stranger makes me want too.

He grins back at me, grinding his ass against me some more and I slap his ass again. His ass jiggles _just_ slightly but with the musculature of it, its just as firm as the rest of him. "Go Padmé! Go Padmé!" The ladies chant enjoying watching me come out of my shell, I enjoy it too and I've only had one beer and not even the full bottle of it.

The sexy stranger turns around and faces me, he spreads my legs apart with one of his knees and runs his large calloused hands up and down my soft hairless legs. There are things I'd like him to do to me from down there as he drops down to his knees and looks at me with those devilish eyes but he just stands back up, teasing me. "You'd like me to do that, wouldn't you?" He asks, in that same voice full of sex. "That'd make the both of us," he winks at me and moves down me giving me a perfect view of his sculpture-perfect body. "Any special requests, Padmé? Any desires... you'd like me to bring to life tonight?"

Where do I start? None of those though are appropriate or things I'd like to do with a room _full_ of my friends and colleagues. I'd never live it down, none of them really like Rush either and would probably rather see me with this _very_ handsome stranger. Not able to come up with anything other than the obvious, I shake my head. "Just a... lap dance." He grins down at me, his hot breath tickling my throat.

"Your wish is my... _command_." He says, waggling his beautiful dark blond eyebrows at me and then walks off to the kitchen and comes back with a sturdy tall kitchen chair. He nods to it and I stand up and take a seat, feeling my face redden at what's about to happen. "Relax, it's just you and... _me_." Nothing about his words make me want to relax, it only makes my heart hammer against my rib cage, my breathing pick up and making me wetter than I've ever been before, nothing about _that_ is relaxing. Perhaps if were alone but even with his words, of me just concentrating on him, I still know we're _not_ alone.

My eyes stay locked on him as he walks away from me, giving me a beautiful view of his fine ass as he goes. Then he turns around, giving me a better view of that big dick barely hidden behind the cloth of his thong. He waggles his eyebrows at me and grins as he approaches, he walks with confidence but with a movement that makes him look like he's done this a million times. It wouldn't surprise me if he did and for some reason, that makes me a little jealous. I have no right to be, Dormé hired him to entertain me and us tonight and he's just doing his job but something like this just feels intimate... it feels weird knowing that this is just his job and not something _more_.

Something that I'd like it to be, except knowing that he is not the man I am going to marry and just because this man is _extremely_ good looking, has a very, _very_ nice package and is more than likely very good in bed, that doesn't mean that we'd actually get along or that we'd be compatible.

No matter how much I'd like us to be.

Shaking off my errant thoughts, I continue to watch him approach me. His strong masculine breasts rise and fall in a sexy, masculine way as he struts closer and closer until he's standing right before me. His eyes look me up and down, his gaze penetrating my veneer like he's able to see right through my clothes and skin. He looks up at my face and his eyes lock onto mine, his lips curl upwards and then he's walking around my chair- slowly, meticulously. His hand grazes my shoulder sending tremors right down to my core and those thoughts come flooding right back into my mind.

I can imagine him on his knees before me like he was earlier on the recliner and him stripping me naked until I am sitting before him bare. His strong muscular hands squeeze my breasts, making me moan and arch my back in pleasure. He takes one of my nipples in his _hot_ mouth, flicks it with his tongue and sucks it making me moan. One of his hands travel down to where I want him to be and he brushes his fingers across my folds. I'm wet and hot down there wanting nothing more than his fingers inside me, his _big, hard_ _dick_ inside me filling me up to the brim. He puts his finger in his mouth making it wet, making me want to suck his finger. He slides his finger across my folds again and then slowly enters, feeling his way around my sex, getting to know it, _me_. His thumb grazes my clit, the sudden contact making me gasp and arch my hips. He smiles his perfect smile at how he makes me feel and his thumb rubs circles around my clit as his finger fucks me, faster and faster. I moan, pant, scream until my body quakes and my milky juices squirt out of me.

I blink, coming back to the present. He's standing before me and looking down at me in curiosity, like he saw my faraway gaze and was wondering where I just was. My face heats at what he'd think if he knew where my mind was and smile, coyly. I think I'd know exactly what he'd think, unless he looks at every... _client_ , like he does me which is definitely possible.

That thought makes me... suddenly, depressed. I'm not sure why I'm feeling this way, especially knowing that there's a good chance that we won't be seeing each other after he leaves and I am _supposed_ to be getting married next week. Maybe my problem isn't with this sexy hunk of a man but my own doubts of actually marrying Rush. Maybe I'm making a mistake...

"Are you with me, Padmé?" The sexy hunk of a man asks, looking down at me with light blue eyes. The darkened lust-filled look gone. Maybe he truly does care. Maybe I am special to him and not _just_ another client. That thought fills me up with warmth, love, _hope_. "I'm not boring you, am I? I mean-I can-"

I stop his stuttering with a raise of my dark eyebrow. "It's not you. It's just the pre-wedding jitters getting to me is all." It may not exactly be the truth but I can't tell him what I was _really_ thinking. "You're perfect, _absolutely_ perfect."

He nods, grinning wide at me and continues giving me his full undivided attention. Like I'm the only woman in the world. He takes my hands in his and rubs them up and down his body. "Touch me, Padmé. Enjoy yourself, _enjoy_ my body." His eyes darken again as he talks dirty to me and I know mine do too. "Don't be shy, not with me." His words have a way of penetrating and reaching inside me to pull out someone I'm normally not.

I do as he says and feel his incredible abdominal muscles under my hands and run my hands up and down his body, getting to know him just like I'd like him to know _me_. He moves his body around under my hands as he continues to dance and occasionally grabs them and guides them to somewhere new. Then he waggles his eyebrows in a mischievous way and lifts me back up and brings me back to the recliner where he straddles me.

"I didn't want to crush you," he whispers into my ear, seductively. "This recliner serves my purposes _much_ better for this." He says in that pure sex voice of his that sends shivers down my spine and heat right down to my core and I'm sure he knows of his effect on me. "Touch me Padmé, keep rubbing me up and down with your sweet soft hands."

How could I refuse that? I can't and do as he demands, making him feel good and making me feel _incredible_. He moves his hips around me, rubbing his _hard_ dick around my abdomen and chest, breasts. He sits down on me, his dick pressing into my lower abdomen as he does and he continues to move his hips and body around mine. Feeling bold by his body on mine and the way he's talking to me, _touching_ me, I reach down and squeeze my hand around his dick.

He arches his hips into my abdomen and gasps, " _fuck_!" He curses, his eyes closing shut and head falling back. "You-you can't do _that_! You have no idea what you're doing to me, _Padmé_." I can't help but grin at his frustration, now he knows how he's making me feel and I tell him so. He laughs, his chest rumbling, his whole body shaking. "Pay back, is it? _Two_ can play at that." Those words don't sound very reassuring but I'm suddenly curious as to what he'll do.

Then I learn and am regretting my decision to be bold. He grins at me and slides his hands up and down my body, his hands moving lower and lower until they're brushing my thighs and moving in such a way that makes me moan. His hands are exactly as I imagined them to be in my imagination earlier. Strong, muscular, calloused hands tracing patterns along my skin and then he moves his hands closer and _closer_ to where my imagination was and he grins even more feeling me shake under him and quietly curse under my breath so the others around us can't hear me.

"We can always go a step further, just not in front of a crowd." He looks around, then leans down closer to me. His hot breath tickling my ear. "Though, I'm not entirely opposed to _that_." Pinching his leg at his teasing, he hisses and laughs again. "Let me finish giving you a lap dance and if you want to get a room..." He waggles his eyebrows again and continues until he's done. Leaving me more and more sexually frustrated as he thrusted his hips against mine, moved his head closer to me, breathing his hot breath on my neck and giving me another view of his fine ass with only the tight little string between his strong muscled and _tanned_ cheeks.

I stay sitting here, several minutes afterwards and he entertains the other women. They're getting their own private lap dances, feeling him up and down like he's a piece of meat and the look on his face, was nothing like it was for me. Though he does flash them his signature grin, showing off his perfect, straight white teeth, his grin doesn't grow as wide as when he was dancing for me. _Everything_ about this man is perfect, I just wish I met him sooner. Maybe before Rush, I have no doubt that he can make me feel much more incredible than Rush ever could. But can I really end our relationship when our wedding is just next week all because of a mind-blowing lap dance and a pretty face... and immaculate body.

Then there's his voice, his hands, his eyes, his hair, his eyebrows, his smile and his laugh.

Then... his dick, which was _incredibly_ hard and big against _me_ the _whole_ time.

Everything about the man is just amazing, mind-blowing even.

I just can't wonder what life would be like with him, over Rush. Then I hear myself think that and realize that I don't even know his name, his day job- I doubt this is his _only_ job, his age- maybe in his lower to mid-twenties and just about everything else that happens inside that amazing body and head of his.

I don't even know if he likes me, his words suggested that he'd like to fuck me, like I'd like to fuck him but is that all he'd like to do to- _with_ me? Does he already have a girlfriend?

Sighing, I push these thoughts out of my head. Its his job to entertain, to make women feel like this and that is all I am to him. I'm getting married to Rush and that is that.

 _Or is it?_

These thoughts in my head, even if it isn't the sexy stranger do bring into question how I truly feel about Rush. Rush is a good man, sure but do I see myself being with him for the rest of my life? Having children with him? Having that happy family that I always envisioned? Are these thoughts just pre-wedding jitters that every bride-to-be have or are these thoughts my subconscious mind telling me to end things with Rush now before realizing my mistake later and having to go through with the process of a divorce?

Funny how a pretty face and an amazing body bring these thoughts to the front of my mind. If I'm being honest with myself, I knew for some time and even talked to Sola and my mom about them. They thought it could be pre-wedding jitters too but they also told me to really think things over before I say _'I do'_ or preferably before our wedding even takes place. Dad agreed, he likes Rush like mom and Sola but they also ask a lot of questions about whether or not I'm truly _happy_ with him.

Why would they ask me that? Do they see things that I don't? Or at least that I didn't until now? Maybe I'm just overthinking things but these are questions and thoughts that I definitely need to talk about with my friends and family before Rush and I marry.

The ladies whining has me looking up and I see Anakin dressing back in his uniform and buckling the duty belt back around his waist with pockets full of money. I smile, he definitely made a lot tonight and I'm sure, no matter where he goes, he always makes money like that. That's probably why he does it, to show off his incredible body and dance moves in front of swooning women and leaves with a whole load of money.

His eyes rest on mine after his duty belt is in place and he struts over to me, all confident like he did before he gave me the lap dance of my life, the _only_ lap dance of my life. His body so big and powerful, yet the way he straddled and sat on me was like he was aware of how big and strong he was in comparison and didn't want to accidentally hurt me. It's endearing, really.

"Hey," he says to me in that low, husky voice, taking a seat in the kitchen chair still next to the recliner. "I was serious about my offer, you know in case your marriage doesn't work out or if you ever... y'know, want to _talk_ sometime." He scratches the back of his neck nervously and hands me a business card with his information on it. "My cell phone number is there on the bottom, if you ever want a _private_ lap dance, you know who to call." He waggles his eyebrows to me in that sexy way he does and he takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. "It was nice meeting you, Padmé."

He doesn't wait for an answer, he just stands back up and struts out of the house after saying bye to the ladies and thanking Dormé for hiring him tonight and he tells her if she ever needs another male entertainer, stripper really, she knows who to call and he makes sure to take his hat too.

Feeling the business card still in my hand, I look for his cell phone number first on the bottom and then look at it and notice it doesn't say anything about what he did tonight. Rather it's the business card he uses for his day job and his day job doesn't surprise me in the least.

"Anakin Skywalker. Real Estate Agent."

The blue eyed, dark blond haired sexy stranger that I'd most _definitely_ like to fuck _me._

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 **A/N: How did you guys/gals like this story? I wrote it all yesterday, I just woke up with the idea in my mind for some reason, pulled out my iPhone and pulled up the FanFiction app to start writing it. I ended up writing over two thousand words and then wrote the rest later on last night and revised it.**

 **I guess Magic Mike had some inspiration in this (even if I hadn't watched that movie since the first time I watched it), in the male stripper sense but this isn't no Magic Mike even if that is who Anakin is a lot like here.**

 **I already wrote chapter two, I was actually up late last night writing it and just finished early this morning. I'm sure you'll like it and I'll post it over the weekend, more than likely (possibly before though). I'm on a roll with this story and have the whole plot and backstory already rolled out. I just don't want to release the next chapter before I have the chapter after that written.**

 **If you like this story and would like to see more, please be sure to follow, favorite and review! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I want to thank all of you for following, favoriting and reviewing my story! I don't feel like boring you with a long author's note so I saved it for the end, well it's not long but it's long enough. Anyway, here's chapter two in Anakin's pov and this begins immediately following chapter one. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Bachelorette Party: Chapter Two**

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 _ **Anakin Skywalker**_

Leaving my client's house for the night, I walk to my Ford F-150 in the driveway and hop in. Once inside, I see the beautiful bride-to-be flash before my eyes and can't seem to get her beautiful image out of my head even when I was _grinding_ on her friends, all I saw was her. Pushing the engine on button, my truck comes to life under me and I back out of the driveway and begin driving home.

Padmé, she was easily the _hottest_ woman that I've ever seen before. If she wasn't getting married just next week I would've been more forward, pressed my lips against hers, shoved my dick - which she seemed to _enjoy_ \- _closer_ to her face, rubbed it along her sweet _wet_ pussy - even if she was still wearing her pretty little short skirt - until she couldn't stop thinking about anything except me- inside of _her_ and I know I would've enjoyed every second of it and she would've too.

There have been many women that I've entertained since I've began stripping but there haven't been any women quite like _her_. She was so uncomfortable and clueless that it was cute. It was nice seeing her come out of her comfort zone, out of her shell, that's one thing I like about doing what I do. I _love_ dancing, _love_ women, _love_ showing off my body and making the women feel good. Why not make some money while doing what I love? Stripping for a living with a face and body like mine, might be fun and exciting, something that I love to do but it isn't what I see myself doing forever. Neither is selling houses, even if it brings in a pretty nice income but both are just stepping stones to bring me where I want to be and that is eventually starting my own business.

What type of business? More like an empire, besides my hobbies of dancing, entertaining women and selling houses, I'm pretty good at fixing and building things with my bare hands. Mom used to get pretty upset at me when I'd take things apart, like the toaster, microwave, the TV and forget to put them back together again which wasn't often but _did_ happen. So long as I remembered, she usually didn't mind and let me have my fun. She could always see that I enjoyed taking things apart, fixing them and then rebuilding them or building them from scratch and making them better than they were before. She was the one who recommended that I study mechanical engineering in college and would've but even with my partial scholarship, I still didn't have the money and couldn't afford to go.

That's actually when I went into stripping. Dancing is something I've always done, longer than I've been a _self-proclaimed_ engineer and I was always quite good at it. Los Angeles is full of people who want to be actors and entertainers but I was never like _them_. I didn't want to be famous or on the big screen but LA is known for more than just being the capital of the world for the acting business and I was _discovered_ just walking down Hollywood Boulevard.

An auburn haired man approached me one day and just asked me questions about myself and what my plans for the future were. I told him my dilemma about college and my lack of money to go and that's when he told me about the world of male stripping. As it turned out, he owned his own male strip club in Hollywood but to work there, you had to be twenty-one because of alcohol and the laws in the state- I was only eighteen. However, he told me about private parties and hooked me up, I'd be an independent contractor for him and he set me up with these gigs through his club.

I fell in love with it and made more money in just one night than I made in over two months working as a sales clerk at the clothing store that I worked at- at the time. The day after my first night stripping, I quit my job at the clothing store and started doing this full-time for a while, making more money than I knew what to do with and my mom _definitely_ began to take notice. Especially when she walked into my bedroom on me wearing a male thong practicing my lap dancing... _that_ was embarrassing and that's when I told her what I'd been doing.

She was relieved it wasn't anything illegal but not exactly happy about it either. But she said that I was a grown man and capable of making my own decisions, she voiced her opinion but left me to choose my own path in life and I continued doing what I was doing until I had my own client base and word of mouth was spreading about me like a wildfire and then I started doing this on my own. I started my... _entertaining_ , as my own registered business to make it legal, this isn't exactly the kind of company that I want to be associated with my eventual business empire but it is a start.

I made enough from my stripping to afford to go to college and paid my own way through and also took classes in becoming a real estate agent and got my license when I finished the class and passed the state test. I thought it'd be fun and help me rake in some extra dough and that dough accumulated into quite a healthy bank account between both jobs. I ended up becoming so busy between both jobs that I dropped out of college and kept pursuing them.

I'm twenty-three years old now and don't regret a thing. I make my a whole lot of money and work when I please but that doesn't mean that I have no ambitions or goal in life besides my eventual business empire. Life is constantly about pushing yourself, striving to be better and I'll keep doing that. Skywalker's never had an easy life after all, my mother gave birth to me at just seventeen years old, her parents disowned her when she refused to have an abortion and they kicked her out with just the clothes on her back. She used the little money she had in her pocket to buy a bus ticket to LA and worked three jobs to support us, there were days that I wouldn't even see her but I knew that was because of how hard she worked to put clothes on my back, food on the table and to keep a roof over our heads. How could I begrudge her for that? She sacrificed _everything_ because she wouldn't give me up and here I am.

She may have... passed away a few years ago to breast cancer and there may have been days when I just wanted to breakdown and quit. But I couldn't. My mother raised me to never give up and my life isn't so bad but what do I have to show for it? Money? My own nice apartment? A nice brand new truck? Those are all possessions, material things. Besides those I have nothing to show for all of my hard work.

Just my two jobs.

I have no girlfriend, no wife and no kids.

It's just _me_.

Then I laid my eyes on that gorgeous brown eyed bride-to-be and think of what my life _could_ be. She may be getting married and having that perfect little family and life I'm sure she always dreamed about and I can have _that_ too. _She_ may be taken but that doesn't mean that _my_ woman isn't out there somewhere waiting for me to walk into her life and give her the best lap dance she ever experienced. Even Padmé didn't experience my best but that is because there was a group of women around us, my best lap dance is definitely much more... _intimate_ and _private_ than I'd be willing to do in front of a group of women. Not that I never had sex with a woman in front of other women before but those were never bachelorette parties and surely never in front of a crowd like tonight. I tend not to do that though, I prefer only fucking women in private, just the two of us without any prying eyes.

Or the three of us, in the case of a threesome. Even those are rare but do happen every now and again.

Women seem to love my face and body, the two reasons why I've been such a success in the world of stripping and real estate. And I know just how to use them to my advantage while making sure everyone leaves satisfied, to the _best_ of my ability.

I'm sure I did that for Padmé and her friends, though more for Padmé _than_ her friends. I honestly couldn't believe I performed as well as I did for her. She took my breath away just when she opened that front door, nevermind when I was pulling her flush up against me with my belt and _grinding_ my hips against hers and I felt her soaking wet between her thighs, begging me for more and I gave her _more_.

I would never try to steal a woman from another man, especially a week before her wedding but I never felt the way I did when I was with her, performing for her, imagining myself doing things to her and her doing things to me. I'm sure she was thinking of that too, I saw her faraway look when I was in the beginning stages of my lap dance. Then that sexy coy smile she gave me, I'm sure she was imagining do things to me too, probably related to when I was on my knees before her, teasing her before I stood back up.

That was so fucking _hard_ to do. I just wanted to pull her skirt and panties down around her ankles and bury my face in between her slender thighs. Lick my way across her slick folds, feel her wetness on my tongue before entering her sweet-as-fuck pussy. I smelled her arousal, she smelled of pure lust, pure sex and I wanted to give it all to her. To suck her sweet clit with my lips as my tongue lapped up every inch of her up and fucked her pussy until she came into my mouth. I can already taste her sweet milky juices on my tongue and _fuck!_

I pull over to an empty commercial parking lot that I shouldn't even be in and cut off my lights. My dick is throbbing _painfully_ in my pants and I remove the duty belt, throw it on the floor in the backseat and then my belt and throw that back there too and then unbutton and unzip my pants and pull them down until their around my ankles. My dick is _hard_ inside my thong and my thong's doing nothing to hide my dick's thick, throbbing need. I pull my thong down to my knees and squeeze my dick, giving it _some_ relief.

Hissing at the contact, I stroke my hand up and down my dick, going faster and faster, closing my eyes and imagining instead of my hand that I'm with Padmé and that she's lying on my king sized bed at home, looking at me with her beautiful chocolate brown eyes and lying next to me naked. She sees my _throbbing_ need and smiles that sexy-as- _fuck_ coy smile of hers showing off her perfect white teeth, her full succulent pink lips and she slides down the bed and grabs my dick like she did earlier tonight and she runs her soft tender hand up and down my dick like she was up and down my body. She sees the effect she has on me and is feeling bold by what's she doing to me and she increases the speed, before putting her other hand around me and strokes me up and down, faster and _faster_ and-

 _"Fuck!"_ I'm coming all over my uniform shirt that I forgot to remove and don't even care. My head sinks back against the headrest and my manly juices continue spurting out of me, staining my black uniform shirt white. Sweat beads down my forehead and face and I don't even make an effort to brush the sweat off. I _never_ felt this way about a woman before, sure I've had a couple pretty serious relationships but they _never_ made me feel the way Padmé did just by _looking_ at me, just by talking in her sweet angelic tone and definitely not by running her sweet, soft hands up and down my body like she never felt a man's body before. I just hope that I left an impression on her like she did on me.

After a couple of minutes of panting and feeling satisfied _enough_ , I reach for a rag in the backseat and clean myself up. Unbuttoning my shirt, I throw it in the backseat and pull my thong and pants back up, turn my lights back on and continue my drive home.

Thankfully the LAPD didn't roll up on me, _that_ would've been embarrassing. Much more so than when mom walked in on me. At least she _didn't_ see me naked or masturbating to the memory of that beautiful bride-to-be.

Ten minutes later and I pull into the parking lot, turn my truck off and walk into my apartment complex, shirtless. I encounter nobody on my way up to my apartment and am thankful as fuck for it. Sure I'm only shirtless but I'm sure they can guess what I've been doing. My hair is damp, sweat is still running down my face and body and I'm sure they can see the shame running across my face from what I've just done. I totally defiled that sweet, beautiful, innocent angel with my thoughts and actions, sure she may take a step onto my side every now and again, like she did tonight but that woman deserves the world. She deserves to be happy and if she's happy with her _husband_ -to-be then I'm happy for her.

Its not like I can do anything anyway. I left before she could even say goodbye, I didn't want to hear those words come from her pretty mouth which is why I didn't say them either. It would seem too final and I didn't want to believe that that's the last I'd see of her. That is why I gave her my day jobs business card, to show her that I'm not _just_ a male stripper, to show her that I _do_ have a job besides dancing practically naked for women.

She probably thinks I'm a man whore or something and well, she'd be _right_ I am but that's _only_ because I haven't met the woman that would make me stop wanting another. That's because I haven't met _her_ until tonight and if she was mine then I'd be totally satisfied and wouldn't want anyone else. After all, how can _any_ woman possibly compare to Padmé?! It'd be impossibly hard and that is why I gave her my number.

Maybe she'll just want to buy a house and use me as her realtor or maybe she won't go through with her marriage. She didn't look very happy about it when I noticed her faraway gaze, she said it had to do with pre-wedding jitters and that's to be expected, its a _big_ commitment but I don't know anything about her relationship. She may be happy and just nervous or maybe she just didn't meet anyone quite like me before and I don't mean a _male strippe_ r, I mean _me_. I saw the way she looked at me even before she knew I was a stripper and she looked like she _wanted_ me.

Maybe her man doesn't satisfy her the way she desires, the way _I_ made her feel by barely touching her. There are too many possibilities, I do hope she gets the happiness she deserves but the selfish parts of me hopes that that happiness she deserves is a life with _me_. We may not know each other, other than our names and for her- my body and good looks, for me- her gorgeous-as- _fuck_ body that I know was hidden beneath her _short_ skirt and shirt but that doesn't mean we weren't meant to be together.

Mom used to tell me that when you meet the one your supposed to be with, you'll _know_. Like love at first sight and I was sure I was knocking on the gates of heaven when she answered the door but my ego wouldn't allow me to make a fool of myself and I quickly pulled myself together as best I could just to keep her from seeing my heart pounding against my ribs, my pulse racing faster than the speed of light and my dick that was quickly growing as _hard_ as a rock.

I'm pretty sure that was love at first sight but that doesn't mean she felt the same way, even if I _know_ she did. I felt her heart trying to break free of her ribs too when I was giving her a lap dance, I felt her pulse race when I held her hands in mine and I could smell as well as _feel_ her _wetness_ even through her skirt, I'm surprised there wasn't a puddle forming down there with how wet she was.

But none of that matters. The ball is solely in her court, only she can make the next move and the only thing I can do is hope that move involves me but if it doesn't then I need to push her from my mind and continue on as I always do. I'm not about to let what-ifs or a gorgeous-as-fuck woman keep me from moving on with my life. If we weren't meant to be then my woman is still out there searching for me and me for her.

Reaching my apartment, I unlock my door and step inside. "Hey, Shorty," I say to my fat little tan and white French Bulldog. He's only three years old and full of excitement and energy but man does he _snore_ like a fucking pig. It's a good thing he doesn't sleep in my room with me or I'd _never_ sleep but that is why I got him his own doggy bed that he loves and he sleeps on it in the parlor. I kneel down and pet him for a few minutes, then refill his bowl and give him some fresh water before walking into my large square shape bedroom, turn the lights on and undress.

Throwing my pants, thong and socks in the hamper, I walk into my bathroom, turn the light on, start the shower and then go to the bathroom before finally stepping into the steaming warm shower. The water washes over me, washing away the sin of my earlier deed in my truck and I make sure my body is nice and clean, hair shampooed and conditioned and then turn it off, step out, dry off, throw the dirty towel in the hamper, brush my teeth and walk back into my bedroom still buck ass naked.

I lay down in my big king size bed and throw the big warm blanket over me, the air conditioner is blowing its cold air my way and I listen to the sound of the AC and fall asleep to it and to the beautiful image of Padmé with my hand resting on my _semi_ -hard dick.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter from Anakin's pov. I like the dual point of views and how it shows how both main characters feel and their thoughts on certain things. Padmé is a woman who's undecided about her future with her husband-to-be, it isn't necessarily because of Anakin but he does make her see what she's been realizing over the last few months. What if her and Rush _aren't_ meant to be? And then there's Anakin who is single, young and looking for a good time but then he meets Padmé and she changes his life from the moment he first laid eyes on her and makes him question what he's going to do with his life...**

 **I also hope you liked that scene in Anakin's truck. I was going to wait until he got home before doing that scene but it seemed right for him to do it in the truck in a parking lot where he _could_ always be stopped by the LAPD as a suspicious vehicle. I was also thinking of doing _just_ that but decided against it. It would be quite embarrassing and funny at the same time, just _not_ for Anakin. **

**You may also be wondering why I made him a real estate agent and the simple reason for that is because in every modern AU I've read he's usually always either a mechanic or something related and those wouldn't work here. Instead I decided to make him work with something that would fit _this_ Anakin and a real estate agent seemed to fit. A hot real estate agent by day and a hot male stripper by night. Maybe not someone you want to bring home to your parents but then again, they wouldn't have to know about his night job...**

 **I'm still writing chapter three and will post it next week sometime, it'll be in Padmé's pov and will take place the day after her bachelorette party where she will have some soul searching to do...**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you haven't already, please be sure to follow, favorite and review! Thanks so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Bachelorette Party: Chapter Three**

* * *

 ** _Padmé Naberrie_**

The sexy stranger - _Anakin,_ stands before me, as I open the door to my hotel room, and his cerulean blue eye pierce through me with his intense gaze. As he sweeps his gaze down my body in a near molten caress, his eyes visibly darken, the sky blue becoming dark blue like a stormy sea. His look alone has heat traveling straight down to my core. My breasts swell, my nipples harden, and a puddle of burning _need_ forms between my thighs.

I've _never_ felt this way about _any_ man before meeting Anakin, and since I first laid eyes on him, I couldn't get him out of my mind. He just has this way of making me feel _special,_ like I'm the _only_ woman in the entire world to him, and he's the sun that I need to orbit around, and without him I'm thrown out of orbit, unable to properly function.

 _This is wrong,_ my subconscious whispers to me.

I ignore it.

I'm supposed to be getting married in just a few days, but since my bachelorette party, he's the _only_ man that I've been thinking about, and out of impulse I called him, hoping that if I just met him once and had... _sex_ with him that I can get him out of my system, but now that he's here, and I'm looking at him, I'm not so sure this was a good idea.

Scratch that, I _knew_ this wasn't a good idea from the very beginning, but I had to do _something,_ and this seemed to be the best idea at the time. The fact that I'm about to cheat on Rush _isn't_ even registering in my mind.

And, you know what? I don't even _care._

 _But you should care,_ that whisper says to me.

Again, I ignore it.

My _body_ ignores it, and right now, my body is in total control of this situation, and it doesn't want Rush. It wants _Anakin._

 _"Padmé,_ " he says my name in that sexy, low husky baritone of his, and I shiver and lose _all_ of my self control. He looks down at me with those same lust-filled eyes as the other night, and I pull him into my room and close and lock the door behind us. His eyebrow quirks upward in curiosity, and before he can even think of muttering another word, I lunge myself forward, and his arms open readily. He catches me in his strong muscular arms like I was light as a feather, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around me to pull me flush against him, and then his big hands with their long tapered fingers slide slowly down... from my waist, down over my rounded hips and low back to my ass, and he smirks as he squeezes my cheeks and lifts my hips up, tucking my pelvis firmly against his hardened groin and holds me there against him, as he sways back and forth, slowly grinding his hips against mine, letting me _feel_ his arousal. I can't help but whimper, my own arousal spiking at the sensuous feel of _him._

He leans his head down slowly and our lips finally meet. It feels like fireworks are going off in my head, heat sizzles between our lips, and an almost _electric_ feeling courses through me, and I lose myself completely in his soft lips. I want nothing more right now than to keep my lips pressed against his. He must feel the same way for he groans deep down in his chest and just keeps kissing me, softly molding his lips to mine, and he tilts his head at different angles to explore my lips more thoroughly. I do the same, and then in a bold move unlike _anything_ I've done before, I slide my tongue against his lips, feathering the seam, begging for entrance. He grins against my mouth, chuckling deep in his throat and parts his lips, and our tongues meet halfway, introducing themselves before delicately beginning to dance in an erotic rhythm old as time itself. My knees begin to quake, and I feel slightly unsteady on my feet in my red spike heels.

Abruptly, he turns and moves, and he bends to swing one strong arm behind my legs, then he's sweeping me off my feet, cradling me against his muscular chest. I feel him taking steps forward, and he bends to lay me gently down on the bed. "You're _so_ fucking beautiful," he says in the short time our lips aren't pressing against each other's, and then his lips are back on mine like he can't get enough. Frankly, neither can I.

My senses are hyper aware of _every_ sensation, as he continues his assault on my lips and tongue. Since the night we met, _this_ was what I was fantasizing about, and now that he's here, my body is registering _everything_ about him. The way his lips are pressing against mine, the softness of his lips, and the slight taste of apple still there. The way his eyes pierced through me when I opened the door and darkened in lust immediately upon seeing me wearing my lingerie outfit that I bought _just_ for this occasion. The way he made me feel just seeing him when I opened the door, and the way he caught me so willingly in his strong embrace when I lunged at him like a crazy woman.

He makes me feel like I'm the _only_ woman in the world, and I _never_ felt that way with any other man before, period. And, I've only slept with two men in my entire twenty five years of life. Palo, when we were just teenagers, who took my virginity, and then Rush, whom I met in college, and neither of them made me feel like _this._ Not once.

I consider my lingerie set that I just purchased today from _Victoria's Secret._ I spent over two hours looking at various sets and pieces before picking the red lace bra and matching string bikini panties with it's matching sheer red lace robe, and then wearing them now for the first time as he makes his appearance, and I lost _all_ of my control. In the end, I'm getting exactly what I wanted, but I wanted this to be _special._ I've never done _anything_ like this and feel dirty doing so. Cheating shouldn't be fun or as exciting as this, but it _is,_ no denying it, and I'm not regretting _anything._

 _Rush never made me feel like this. Not even close,_ I remind myself, as I feel myself growing more and more aroused by the moment.

Perhaps I'm making a mistake? No, not with _Anakin._ Not here, not this.

No, with Rush. Hmm, I need to...

Suddenly, his hot lips and tongue leave mine, and he licks his way to my jawline and then licks a path down to my neck, and I moan, utterly helpless under his ministrations, and whatever I was thinking about Rush flees my mind. The _only_ thing that matters right now is _this._ His hot breath tickles my throat, and he presses his lips against me in various spots, suckling gently, as his tongue continues gliding its way down my neck. He's taking his time, torturing me, when _all_ I want is to feel him buried deep inside of me, but he's a master at what he does and is making me feel like I've _never_ felt before, and I'm not about to complain.

"You're sure... this is what you want, Padmé?" He asks me, never stopping his feast upon my neck. I simply nod in response, as my vocal cords seem to have stopped working, and he grins smugly against my neck, and he raises his head back up to my ear and licks then suckles my lobe before biting it gently. I gasp at the sensation. The feeling makes me squirm, but he doesn't stop as I moan. "I'm glad. I don't think I could stop even if you wanted me to," he whispers directly in my ear.

His voice is pure _sex,_ just like it was that night, and I don't think I _ever_ want to hear him speak to me differently. His voice is so sexy and husky that it travels straight to my core, just like his intense gaze. I can't even speak when he talks to me in that voice, looks at me with that sultry gaze.

"I wouldn't... uh... wouldn't _want_ you to stop," I manage to squeak out, breathlessly. My voice sounding _so_ different than it normally does. It's like I can't speak like the real Padmé when I'm with him. When I'm with him someone _else_ inside of me comes out, and I find I _like_ this someone else. _This_ someone else is enticing, alluring... _daring,_ a real vixen. A woman who _knows_ what she wants... and goes after it.

And, I am glad that she does.

I think _he_ is, too.

He leaves my ear lobe, and his hands slide under me to grip my ass to pull me into his arms again, and my arms wrap around his neck, as he moves us farther up the bed, and lays me back down with my head lying on the pillows.

"I'm going to take my time... treat you like the angel you are, but I'm the devil, and I don't know how long I can hold out before I lose control." He's telling me something I already know, but it's endearing really to hear him call me an angel, and it sends a shiver of longing down my spine to know that he cares enough to treat me like I'm special to him.

I just smile at him softly, hoping he can't tell how _badly_ I want him inside of me, and how nervous I am that I'm actually doing this. In my head, logically I know it's _wrong,_ but my heart tells me that _this_ is right, and I'm not sure which one is right and which is wrong, but my _gut_ tells me to go with my heart, and my heart wants _Anakin,_ the sexy stranger that makes me feel like I never felt before.

It doesn't want Rush. Perhaps, it never did.

He grins back down at me and sits up to unbutton and throws his shirt off in a simple motion that has my skin tingling in anticipation of what's to come. Before I can think, his lips are back on my neck, and he kisses and licks his way down to my clavicle and then to my breasts. I'm still wearing my bra, but that doesn't stop him from biting my nipple through the lace with his teeth in a sexy manner that has my breasts swell even more, then he lets go and slowly reaches under me to unclasp the hook, and he slowly pulls the straps off my arms and sends it flying with a quick toss, joining his shirt on the floor.

He waggles his eyebrows in that way he does, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and bends over to grasp my nipple in his mouth, sucking it deeply like he's an infant looking for its food, and my back arches, a moan leaves me, and he's smirking against my breast. His teeth bite down on it, gently making a mark, and his right hand squeezes my other breast feeling the mound like he's trying to commit it to memory, as he pulls, tugs, and tweaks my nipple in his supple fingers.

My God, I _knew_ this man would be good in bed, but _this_ isn't what I was expecting. Truthfully, I was just looking for a quick fuck, a fuck that I would _never_ forget, but this is just plain torture... of the best kind. I try to relay that to him by spreading my legs just a little bit, and I _know_ he got the message for he lets my nipple go from his mouth with a _'pop'_ and then he looks at me with eyes blazing with heat before turning his attention to where I want him most.

He slides himself down the bed until his face is just above my pelvis, and heat sears right through me like he can burn my panties off with his gaze alone. "Do you want me to fuck you, Padmé? Or, do you want me to treasure your pussy like the treasure it is?" This again, talking dirty. Something I've _never_ done before, and honestly, something that I never thought I'd _like_ before... well, that is until I heard it come from _this_ sexy hunk of a man.

All I wanted was for him to fuck me like I've _never_ been fucked before, but to treasure my... _pussy_ , as he put it? How could I refuse such a request? "How about you treasure my... _pussy,_ and then fuck me?" His whole body shakes with his laughter, his eyes twinkling with mischief, making me blush a little.

"It'd be my pleasure, my Angel." He whispers, quickly yanking my panties down my legs and discarding them to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and then his face is between my thighs, and he pauses a moment to rub his nose in the downy dark nest of curls above my wet folds. He inhales my scent deeply, and then he growls hungrily before his hot tongue surges into me, making me gasp and cant my hips upward in surprise, pushing his tongue deeper into me. This isn't the first time a man ate me out, true... but this is already far and away _better_ than _any_ of those times. Like I said, he's a master at this. He _knows_ how to move his tongue and make me moan the whole time while he does it. His tongue moves around inside me, going places no tongue has ever gone before, and have mercy, does it _ever_ feel so, _so_ good. Neither Rush nor Palo ever came anywhere _near_ Anakin's skill level at this.

I feel his tongue lick up my feminine folds, before a hot blast of air washes over my engorged clit. "So beautiful," he whispers, before slowly swirling his wet tongue around and around my clit, again causing my hips to thrust up involuntarily toward his gifted mouth, begging for more. I'm _so_ close... I'm teetering right on the edge... I can _feel_ my orgasm approaching rapidly, and it's _just_ out of reach. Almost there. I just need something _more_... He smirks, I can hear it in his voice, "Don't worry, Angel. I know what you need."

At those words, I feel him slide two fingers inside me and begin pumping, in short shallow strokes, just as he sucks my clit into his mouth and begins flicking his tongue back and forth across the tip of it, and I begin to shiver all over, starting at my head, sweeping down across my swollen breasts, causing my nipples to harden into diamond peaks, then on down my belly, heading quickly toward my clit... and a strangled, garbled wail escapes my lips, as my back arches off the bed...

" _Anakinnnnn..."_ I scream, as the wave begins to build and build and...

* * *

The alarm on my phone goes off next to me, from where it's sitting on my nightstand, jolting me from my sleep... and the most intense and beautiful dream I have _ever_ had, and I reach over in disgust and turn it off, groaning. Since Friday night, I haven't been able to get that blue eyed, dark blonde haired, powerfully built man out of my mind. The way his body felt against mine, how my body reacted to his _look_ alone, never mind his _touch_ that elicited something deep inside me that I didn't even know _existed._ Feelings that no man - not even Rush - had _ever_ aroused in me before. I flop over on my back and groan again. My panties are literally _soaked._ I can feel it, and a deep burning need for _release_ throbs in my pelvis. Literally, it's _burning,_ and it almost hurts.

I know what I have to do. No, what I _need_ to do. I certainly can't go meet Sola, my sister, for lunch feeling like _this_ _._

I don't hesitate.

Sliding my right hand over my flat, toned belly and inside my panties, I spread my legs wide and glide my fingers over my pubic hair, parting my lower lips with my fingers, and reach for my clit. It is distended, swollen, and throbbing. I am literally _dripping wet_ with arousal. All because of _Anakin._ I reach further down, gather up my milky juices on my fingertips, and then begin circling my clit with my fingers. I close my eyes, and _all_ I can picture is Anakin hovering above me, the weight of his naked body resting on his forearms beside my head and on my belly, as he takes me, forcefully slamming his hard dick deep inside me over and over again. I pick up the pace of my fingers, biting my lip to try and hold back my moans, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out all over my body, as I imagine him pumping his lean hips faster, harder and deeper into me. His face and hair sweaty, his golden curls clinging wetly to his forehead, his breathing harsh through his parted lips ghosting just above mine, his eyes nearly black with lust as he stares intently down at me, and he's grunting and moaning my name like a prayer with the force of his exertions...

Suddenly, my muscles tense, and I can't stop the strangulated groan that gushes from my lips, as I throw my head back into my pillows, and my back arches off the bed in undeniable pleasure, as a powerful orgasm races through me. " _Ahhhhh_..." I wail, before I slump back on my bed, sated and spent, panting for breath as I slide my hand out of my underwear and fling it up beside my head on the pillow.

I can feel the lacy fabric of my nightgown scraping against my diamond hard nipples, as they protrude upward with each gasping breath I take. And, my clit is _still_ pulsing with lingering waves of pleasure, and my panties are now _completely_ soaked from my orgasm.

Wow. _That_ was incredible.

I mean, yeah, sure... I've done this before. Just not quite with that powerful a result, I admit. Usually, it's after Rush crawls out of bed to take a shower, and _I'm_ still left wanting from the night before. More often than not, that's the case, sad to say. I stare up at the ceiling as I ponder that fact. I have to admit... If I'm truly _honest_ with myself, I rarely come when I have sex with Rush. And, even when I _do_ manage to come (which, again, is rare), it feels _nothing_ like what I just felt while thinking of Anakin. It's not that Rush is unattractive. He's actually quite good looking with dark short curly hair and emerald green eyes. It's not that he isn't _well endowed_ , either. He is. Or, that he doesn't know what to do. He does.

No. It's just that...Well, he doesn't make me feel the way _Anakin_ did... wrong, _does._

And, I know it.

What I experienced with Anakin Friday night at my party... and what I experienced this morning just _imagining_ him with me, was beyond anything I had _ever_ known possible. I didn't realize that a man could get me _that aroused._ I have never felt that way before, never experienced pleasure of that scope and magnitude, and now, thinking of Rush again... I have to wonder... Is marrying him, knowing he doesn't and _can't_ elicit that type of feeling, that type of pleasure, within me... when I _know_ there's a man out there who _can_...Is marrying Rush _really_ the right thing for me to do... or would I be making a huge ass mistake in saying those 'I do's?'

I lift my left hand and stare at my marquise cut diamond engagement ring set in yellow gold, and while I stare at it, an image of Anakin shaking his head 'no' at me straightaway appears in my mind, and I feel my heart clench in my chest.

I bite my lip. Suddenly, the very _idea_ of Rush touching me intimately ever again... No, more than that, the very _thought_ of marrying Rush, tying my life to his _forever_ seems... wrong somehow. I bolt upright in bed, trembling all over, and I start hyperventilating. I cover my face with my hands, shaking my head. "I can't do this. I can't do this... _I_ _can't do this!"_ I mutter, groaning as I lift my head and then rake my hands through my mahogany tresses.

Is this just pre-wedding jitters? Or, is it my mind and body and my _heart_ trying to tell me I'm about to make the biggest mistake of my _entire_ life?

Throwing back the covers, I climb out of bed and pad on bare feet over to my dresser. Picking up the smart looking business card, I hold it in my fingers, staring at it. His cellphone number seems to jump out at me off the card, and I think back to the moment he placed it in my hand, how sincere he looked when he smiled and scratched his neck nervously, letting me know quietly, privately, that he was _serious._

I pause and turn to look out at the morning sunshine as it filters in through my blinds. What was he serious about, _exactly?_ Just giving me one good fuck? Or, was there something _more_ there for him, too? I click my tongue against my teeth, mulling this over. I would certainly have a comfortable future with Rush, no doubt about it. He _is_ an attorney, after all, in a well established law firm in L.A.

But, do I settle for just comfortable? Or, do I dare risk reaching for something more... far, _far_ more?

I glance back at his card. Real Estate, huh? Certainly, that is a reputable business to be in. Nothing wrong with _that._ But, the stripping? _No_ way _would your family find_ ** _that_ **_respectable,_ my mind whispers to me.

No, they wouldn't. And, I frown and tilt my lips, considering it... Would _I_ be okay with him doing that? I purse my lips and shake my head. No, I wouldn't be.

If Anakin _was_ the man for me, I wouldn't be comfortable with him continuing to work as a stripper. I wouldn't want him flaunting what was exclusively _mine_ in front of all these bunches of horny women night after night after night, and him allowing them to touch him the way he did the ladies at my party Friday night. No matter _how_ much money he made at it.

But, would he even agree to give it up? I sigh and shake my head again, as I set the card back down on my dresser and head for my bathroom to shower.

I need to talk to Sola about this. Get a fresh perspective. I don't know that I can trust my own right now... it's too overrun with thoughts, images, visions of Anakin.

Intimate ones at that.

And, my body is _certainly_ no help, that's for _damn_ sure!

Ripping my nightgown over my head, I toss it into the hamper, slide open the shower curtain, turn on the water to warm it, and step in the tub before activating the shower. I quickly wash my hair before conditioning it, then scrub my body with my lavender scented body wash. Rinsing off my body and then rinsing my hair, I turn off the water, open the curtain, grab a towel off the rack and dry off before stepping out and wrapping the towel around me. I grab another towel and quickly rub my hair partially dry. I head over to my vanity where I comb out hair, apply some curl enhancing mousse, then I apply my deodorant, and brush my teeth before grabbing my hairdryer and proceed to finish drying my long hair. That done, I head back into my room to get dressed.

I'm meeting my sister, Sola, for lunch at noon at one of our favorite cafes. It's near the beach, and we like to sit under their covered patio out back to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine while we eat. It's going to be warm today, and with that in mind, I choose a light summer dress in light blue with small floral patterns on it out of my closet. The inch wide straps and sweetheart neckline leave enough of my shoulders, upper back and chest bare to allow me to catch a few rays, and the small white lace edging along the neckline and the hem of the dress give it a flirty feminine flair that I like. I decide to pair it with some white summer sandal wedges that add about three inches to my height, and tossing my towel on my unmade bed, I grab my bra and underwear out of the dresser, and I quickly go about getting dressed.

Once fully clothed, I step over to my stand up, full-length mirror in the corner of my room and check out my reflection. I twirl around and look over my shoulder to admire the back view of my outfit. Looks perfect! I go back into the bathroom and pull my long curls up into a loose knot on top of my head, leaving a few wisps hanging to frame my face. A spritz of hair spray, and then I apply just a hint of pink colored lip gloss. I forgo the eye makeup today. It's going to be too warm for that. I head back out to my dresser, open my jewelry box and grab a small pair of pearl studs to wear, which I place in my earlobes. Next, I apply a few spritzes of my favorite perfume on my wrists, calves, and my neck. Then, I walk over and grab my phone off my nightstand and grab my purse and a thin white summer sweater out of the big comfy barrel chair I have by the window, and head out of the bedroom, through my living room, and out of my apartment. It's now 10:45, and I told Sola I'd meet her there at 11:45, which gives me an hour to get there, and even though it's Sunday, traffic near the beach restaurants is usually heavy with beach goers, and parking can be tough to come by.

I reach my 2016 cherry red _Mazda Cx-5,_ press the key fob to unlock it, climb in, buckle up, and put it in reverse, then move it into drive and head out of my apartment complex and onto the road. Normally, I'd listen to some music on the drive, but today, my thoughts are too focused on my dilemma about Anakin. What do I do? What _should_ I do? Do I dare call him? Do I dare _not? What IF Anakin is the man for me, the one I'm supposed to be with the rest of my life?,_ I can't help but wonder. And, what about Rush? He's a nice guy, has a good job, steady income, treats me well...but there's just no _oomph,_ no _passion,_ no real _fireworks_ to our relationship. _When he kisses me, I feel nothing...It's like being kissed by a tree stump, dead and lifeless._ I frown, pondering this thought. _Is that what I want for the rest of my life? A passionless marriage that leaves me wanting and unsatisfied?_ Round and round my thoughts go as I maneuver through traffic.

Good thing I know where this cafe is, because I'm basically driving on autopilot here.

While still focused on my internal thoughts, I finish my drive, arriving only a few minutes late due to heavy traffic, but I am fortunate to find a pretty decent parking spot. I notice Sola's car already parked. Good, she's already ordered us a table, and if we're lucky, she's already been seated. I climb out of my car, lock it, and walk round to the front of the building, pull open the door to be greeted by the smiling hostess and a nice cool blast of air conditioning. I give her Sola's name, as I don't see my sister in sight, and the hostess smiles and says, "This way, please," as she motions for me to follow her. Good, as there's already a rather large group of people sitting around, waiting for a table. They're busy, just like usual. I follow the hostess out to the back patio, and sure enough, I see my sister kicked back, relaxed, her favorite pina colada in hand, while she is perusing the menu. I can't help but smile as I approach the table, pull back my chair, and join her.

She doesn't even look up from the menu when she says, "Hi. You're late, little sister. I went ahead and ordered you a frozen mango margarita, no salt, by the way... I had a funny feeling you'd need it today." She sets her drink down, lifts her head on that last comment, drags her sunglasses down her nose with one hand, and quirks an eyebrow at me over the rim of her shades. I smirk. She knows me so well.

At that point, my drink arrives, and our waitress asks if we're ready to order. Sola says she's ready to order, and I already know what I want without looking at the menu. After writing down our respective orders, the waitress leaves, and Sola picks up her glass again and holds it out to me, "Cheers. I think you need it, Padmé."

I raise my glass and clink it with my sister's. She doesn't know just how right she is. I _do_ indeed need this. I take an appreciative swallow of my frozen concoction, close my eyes, and smile as the icy drink soothes my parched throat.

"Ok. Spill. I _know_ something's eating at you. What is it? Would it... ohhh, happen to involve a certain, I dunno... blond male dancer from Friday night, hmm?"

My eyes pop open to simply stare at my smirking sister. Like I said, she knows me all _too_ well. I sigh and set my drink down before leaning back in my chair and looking round the patio, trying to organize my thoughts. Glancing back at Sola, I see her calmly, quietly waiting for me to speak... I also notice her eyes are fairly _dancing_ with mischief. She _knows._ And, I know she knows. Sola was there at my party. She saw Anakin with her own eyes. True, she didn't feel him up like the other ladies there did, but she watched his interactions with _me..._ and my sister _has_ been questioning my decision to marry Rush for quite some time. Oh, not overtly, no. Just with subtle questions, suggestions... trying to get me to really _think_ about this all important decision about marriage... to Rush, in particular.

Well, she got her wish. Since Friday, that's basically _all_ I've been doing. Questioning that decision. And, again, I know she knows it. I sigh, and twist my neck around, running my hand up around my nape, rubbing it. I can't delay any longer. I need her advice now more than ever... and I need it honestly. That's what I came here for. Not for her to sugarcoat anything, and that's something _I_ can't do either. Sugarcoat it. The only way I can work through this is through cold, blunt honesty.

Starting now.

I glance back at my sister and it all tumbles out of me, "I don't think... No, let me rephrase that... I don't _believe_ , in all honesty, Sis, that I am _in love_ with Rush, no. He's a fine man, yes, with excellent qualities, but I just don't feel for him what a bride _should_ feel, y'know? I mean... when he kisses me, touches me... I feel, well... _nothing._ There's no fire, no spark, no passion. When we have sex, I rarely orgasm. And, I do mean _rarely._ I'm always left unfilled, unsatisfied... And, truthfully, I've never felt with Rush the way _Anakin_ made me feel Friday night... I practically orgasmed just from the barest touch from him alone! And, I know that sounds crazy, just totally _nuts_ , Sola... but dammit, it's the truth! And, I don't know what to _do!_ On the one hand, I don't want to break Rush's heart by canceling the wedding now, but on the other hand, I don't believe I can go through with it either. I just can't fathom spending the rest of my life with Rush. I mean, is this just pre-wedding jitters or is this my conscience telling me I'm about to make the worst mistake of my life, y'know?"

I huff and grab my glass and take a long soothing sip of my drink through my straw. It feels good to get that off my chest. To openly voice my concerns to my sister. She watches me silently for a few moments, pausing to take a slow sip of her own drink, before setting her glass down and looking at me seriously. Here it comes... the hard ass truth I'm in _need_ of right now.

"Sis, I'm not surprised to hear this. I've been concerned about your decision to marry Rush for quite some time. In all honesty, so have Mom and Dad. You haven't seemed genuinely _happy_ , Padmé. Not in a very long time. You avoided having to make _any_ decisions regarding the wedding for as long as possible... including putting off sending out invitations _and_ getting your wedding dress. That doesn't sound like a bride who's eager to get to the alter, does it?" She shoots me a wry look.

I can't disagree with her. She's telling the truth after all.

"You're right," I sigh. At that moment, our waitress returns with our meals. I ask for a glass of iced water with lemon, Sola for a glass of iced tea. We thank our waitress, and she departs to get our drinks, and we dig into our entrees. The food is delicious, as always, and for several minutes, we eat in companionable silence. After our extra drinks are delivered, I put my fork down and ask the all important question, "What do you think I should _do,_ Sola?"

My sister purses her lips, takes a sip of her tea, and shrugs her shoulders, "Well, that's entirely up to you, Padmé, _but_ if it were _me_ , given how this other chap made you feel, I would suggest you contact him and arrange to meet him for... say lunch or a cup of coffee anyway... _just_ to talk. _Nothing_ physical. Just to... I dunno... find out what his _real_ intentions are, Honey. I mean... he's a stripper, for pete's sake... and well, sex _is_ his business," she holds up a hand when I go to protest. "I'm _not_ implying he's a gigolo, ok? Just that he's obviously _extremely_ experienced when it comes to women, and I might even go so far as to say he's what you could probably call a _'man whore,'_ and given that possibility, you'd be safer to find out if he just wants a quick easy fuck from you or if he was _genuinely_ drawn to you and interested in you as a person." She gives me a pointed look and takes another sip of her tea.

Of course, that's the very argument I've been tossing round in my head since Friday. I bite my lip and tap my fingernails on the table, contemplating my sister's words. I flick my eyes back to hers, "He's not _just_ a stripper. He's also a real estate agent. He gave me his card. Here, look for yourself," I reach into my purse, pull out the business card he'd given me, and hand it to Sola, who looks at it, purses her lips again, and hands it back to me.

"Well, that's a relief. Is it legit, though?" she asks, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

I huff and roll my eyes, " _Yes._ He's legit, Sis. I double checked his realtor's license, as well as several properties he's currently selling. It's not a cover for the stripping. I suspect he just does the stripping as a side job for some extra cash." Sola shoots me an amused look. "What?" I throw my hands wide and shrug, wondering why she's looking at me like that.

"Defensive of him, much?" Her eyes are fairly twinkling when she dips her shades to look at me over the rims.

I snort, "Well, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, Sis."

"That's all well and good, Hun, but you gotta wonder... What _if_ he wasn't willing to give up stripping for you, presuming, of course, that he was insinuating or inferring that he'd like to _have_ a real relationship with you? What would you do then? Knowing you, I somehow _doubt_ you'd like your boyfriend to strip for other women for a living, right?"

I nod my head and sigh, "You're right, Sis. I've thought of that, too, and _no,_ I wouldn't be comfortable with that."

"Well, regardless if this Anakin guy is the right man for you or not, I still think Rush is definitely the _wrong_ man for you, and I would seriously hate to see you make the single _worst_ mistake of your life... potentially risking a nasty divorce and bringing children into the equation... when it's _more_ than obvious to our family that you are _not_ in love with the man. I mean, seriously, Padmé, when even _Dad_ has been questioning it, as obtuse as he can usually be..." she trails off on another shrug of her shoulders and drinks more tea.

"Yeah. I know, Sola. I guess after dating Rush for the past two and a half years, I just... decided to settle for what was comfortable, rather than end it with him when I should have. I admit, I was actually surprised he proposed. I wasn't expecting that, and deep down, I think I realized that I wasn't as... _overjoyed..._ when he asked as I _should've_ been. I guess I just didn't want to admit it," I eat another bite of chicken as Sola purses her lips and nods, watching me closely.

"Padmé, we only want you to be happy, Sis... and it's obvious to _us_ that you're anything _but_ happy. We're not saying Rush is a bad guy or anything... just that maybe this really isn't what's right for _you._ " My sister shoots me a sympathetic look and reaches across the table to grasp my hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

I give a half smirk and nod my head again, quietly assimilating her words. We eat in silence for several minutes, each lost in our thoughts. I _hate_ the thought of hurting Rush, because he truly _is_ a nice guy, but my sister is right... and deep in my gut, I've always known it. I was just going with what I _knew_ instead of what I really _wanted..._ the only problem was, I didn't know what I really wanted until Friday night. The only question is: Is what I _want_ really what's right for me either?

Only one way to find out.

Looking at my sister again, she raises her eyebrows at me questioningly, wondering what I'm going to say next, but when I speak, my words don't seem to surprise her. "I have to see Rush and talk to him. I can't do this. I know in my heart we'd end up miserable. Both of us. I don't... I _won't_ make that mistake, no matter how much it hurts right now," I say quietly.

Immediately, Sola nods her head, "That's the wisest thing to do, Hun. And, Mom, Dad, and I can help with canceling the venue, calling the caterers, the bakery, and even notifying guests and making arrangements to return the gifts. I mean, the wedding isn't scheduled till next Saturday. Let us handle all of that. You talk to Rush and settle things with him." I simply purse my lips and nod my head, then look up at her in surprise when she says, "After talking to Rush, pick up the phone and contact... _him_. Meet him for coffee... or even lunch _here,"_ she motions around us with a wave of her hand, "talk to him, get to know him as a person, not just a hot ass stripper. Go out with him a few times and spend some _real_ time with him. Find out if he's _really_ what you want, then see where it goes from there."

Again, a small smile graces my lips as I nod at my sister, but my eyes fly open wide in shock when she suddenly grins wolfishly at me and says, "Oh, but one thing... I'd keep your wedding dress. Something tells me you just _might_ end up needing it in the not too distant future. And, it _is_ already paid for, after all."

" _Sola_!" is all I can manage to stutter, and my cheeky sister just chuckles, shaking her head, giving me a shrug, then quirks an eyebrow at me, raises her glass in a salute, and takes another big sip of her drink. I can't help laughing along with her... _just_ a little. I knew talking things over with my sister would help give me clarity, courage, and the gumption to do what I need to do. And, what I have to do next won't be easy or pleasant, but I know in my heart it's what I _need_ to do before I can face my future.

And, I can't help the little thrill that sweeps through me at the thought of just _who_ I hope that future will be with.

Now, I just have to take the next step, make that call... and find out if my dreams really _will_ become my future.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, I am still alive and hope you all like this chapter!

It might be a bit of a tease... but, things have to progress and the two don't even know each other, yet. The story is going to move along though, not a quick pace but also not in a slow pace, this'll definitely be an intense story and by that, I mean a hell of a lot of M rated content. I hope you like that, because I most definitely do.

Next chapter is in Anakin's pov and will keep the story moving.

Putting the story aside for a moment, how'd you all like The Last Jedi? I hear a lot of mixed reviews, some love it, some hate it, some are indifferent about it. Personally, I'm on the fence. It had some great aspects and cool battles, it also surprised me, but other parts were like recycled bits from past SW movies (won't say them here for those who have yet to see the movie, which I would recommend you do), and I wasn't a big fan of them. Let me know your thoughts on it!

I also want to wish you all a Happy New Year and hope you all enjoyed your Christmas (if you celebrate it) or holidays (if you don't celebrate Christmas)!

Please follow, favorite and review if you haven't already! Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Fixed chapter three, I somehow uploaded this to both chapter three and four. It's fixed now though. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Bachelorette Party: Chapter 4**

* * *

 **Anakin Skywalker**

"And that concludes the tour. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask."

I hold in a sigh, as I give my trademark, carefree grin and complete the tour of one of my most expensive properties for sale. If I had the money to afford it myself, I'd probably buy it, but as it is, I don't, and honestly, I wouldn't need it anyway.

I mean, who the hell really needs seven thousand square feet, six bedrooms, five and a half baths, two kitchens, two swimming pools, a tennis court, and a five car garage? Then again, let's not forget the location...it is Beverly Hills, after all.

Who would really want to live here anyway? I guess if you're rich that's one thing, famous yet another. It is where all the movie stars tend to live, is it not? But, there aren't any present today, just normal, everyday, women, men, and some couples.

All of which kept staring at me throughout the open house, leading me to wonder if they're even interested in the property. Or, was it me they were interested in? Well, maybe not the couples so much.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't often hit on during open houses, usually from the women, but occasionally even some men have just come to an open house or requested a tour of a property just to get near me. And, I'd be lying if said I didn't use that to my advantage with the women. There's nothing wrong with a little flirting with the ladies, right? The men, however, I keep things with them strictly professional. There's no way I'd want them to get the wrong idea about me.

Anyway, as I was saying, a little harmless flirting with females is fine...As long as it ends with me getting a nice, fat commission at the end of the day, and the other party getting their dream home? Where's the harm in that?

It's a win, win in my book.

The men, women, and couples walk around the property, taking a second look around. There are two women, though, in particular that hold back, talking to each other in hushed tones and keep giving me a look like I'm the one they came to look at and buy.

I know all about that. It's how women always look at me, especially when I'm just about naked, dancing for them. And, had it not been for the preoccupation of my thoughts elsewhere as of late, I may have made the first move with these two beautiful ladies. I mean, as I've said previously, it's not like I've never indulged in a threesome before. As it is though, my thoughts lead me elsewhere and completely away from these two femme fatales.

Nope, my thoughts lead me straight back to that gorgeous bride-to-be, who not very surprisingly hasn't called me, dammit.

I can't say it doesn't hurt; it does. I thought that maybe she would come to her senses, that maybe she would admit to feeling what I felt. There was an instant connection between us, something I never felt before with any woman, and I really want to know what it means.

For her, for me, for us.

What is it about the sweet, beautiful Padmé that has me coming harder than I've ever come before? What is it about that adorably sweet creature that has my dick turning rock hard just thinking about her-

Dammit! There it goes again!

I'm suddenly as hard as a fucking brick just thinking about Padmé, and what's worse...the two women eyeing me like I'm just a piece of meat notice, and their eyes nearly bug out of their blonde heads. Great, just fucking great.

Just what I don't need. Not here, and definitely not now.

I need to get the fuck out of here, and I do, abruptly turning around on my heel and leaving the room. Had I been at home, I'd be jerking myself off right now to relieve the tension building rapidly in my balls, but I'm not, and I'm not about to jerk it here.

No fucking way.

Which leads me to try and think of something else...something, anything to take my mind off that beautiful, slender brunette with those gorgeous brown eyes of hers and the softest skin I've ever felt caress against my own.

Oh fucking hell.

That isn't helping one fucking bit. It's having the direct opposite effect on me. If I don't come soon, soon as in now, I may just fucking come in my navy dress slacks.

And, that just isn't gonna happen, not if I have anything to say or do about it. The dam's already bursting though. I can't hold it back. It's like trying to keep the water in a bucket full of holes, impossible. The pressure is growing, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Trust me. I've been trying now for days, and nothing's worked thus far.

I dash up the master staircase, taking two steps at a time, and I walk quickly down the upstairs hallway to the master suite. Entering it, I shut and lock that door, then enter the en suite master bath and close the door, locking it behind me as well. Immediately, I unzip my pants and reach my hand in, pulling my granite hard dick out through the hole of my boxers and then my slacks and give it what it wants.

Well, not what it wants, but the only thing it's going to get tonight.

My right hand.

I walk over to the toilet, and lift the seat up and begin to jerk it, trying to relieve the tension building up fast in my nearly blue balls. I'm not easy going on it either. I can't stay in here or run any wild and crazy fantasies in my head. After all, I have a house full of potential clients out there. I really can't afford to be locking myself in the bathroom and jerking off, period.

But fuck it, that's exactly what I'm doing, and there's nothing I or anyone else- except for a certain brunette- can do about it. And, it's clear to me that she's going ahead with her wedding plans and marrying the man she's engaged to. The lucky bastard. Getting the woman that I want. It's not fucking fair! To finally find my dream girl only to have her be engaged to another man! And, I can't help the strong surge of jealousy that rips through me as I envision Padmé dressed all in white with a lovely bouquet of flowers walking slowly down the aisle...Suddenly, a groan tears out of me.

Don't get me wrong. She deserves to be happy, but fuck, don't I deserve to be happy, too? I've been with many women through the years and none of them- not one, had even an inkling of the effect Padmé had on me that night, and we didn't even kiss.

All I have to do is imagine her in my head, and it's enough to drive me wild.

And, before I can stop it, a wild and beautiful fantasy plays out in my mind.

In my fantasy, I'm standing before her naked, my throbbing dick standing at attention, hard, and proud out of my nest of dark blond curls. She's also naked and on her knees, at my apartment, in my bedroom. She runs her soft, little hands up and down my strong muscular thighs, resting her gorgeous ass against the back of her legs. She's just looking up at me, her eyes full of lust, but she's content to just sit there and caress my thighs without a care in the world. It's as if she's begging me to make her do something, and I do. Because as good as her caresses feel, I want more. I reach out and grab her hair, which is wrapped up in a ponytail and tug it gently, but with some force. Her eyes darken, and she rises to her knees, of her own volition, bringing her face eye level with my throbbing dick.

Her hands keep rubbing up and down my thighs, but now they edge closer. They move up, inch by tantalizing inch until they're just about where I want them most- caressing my blue-ready-to-burst-balls and throbbing, hard-as-stone dick. Then, they're there. My hand is still wrapped around her ponytail, and I can feel its silky, soft strands sliding around my fingers, and I move her head exactly where I want it-

And fuck, I'm coming into the toilet.

Of course, my dick couldn't even let me get to the good part. The part where her pretty pink lips and mouth were on my dick, sucking my head. Figures.

After cleaning myself up with toilet paper, flushing the evidence away, washing and drying my hands, and trying my best to look presentable and businesslike again without everyone knowing what I just did, I head back out and down the main stairs and walk around the house's main floor. I'm stopped a few times by some of the couples, men and women, and answer questions to the best of my ability about the property, and an hour later, I clean up the refreshments that I set up to serve and lock the house up tight, ready to go back home for the night.

It's as I'm walking back to my F-150 that I notice I'm not alone.

Dammit.

There's a car parked in the driveway still. It's a nice little ruby red Ford Mustang GT convertible, maybe a 2016 or 2017? Then, I notice who it is and internally groan, as the two blonde heads pop out, open their doors, climb out, and start sauntering my way.

Shoot me now. Please! I won't even resist.

No dice. I'm still here, and suddenly, they're upon me.

"Sorry, ladies," I interrupt whatever one of them was about to say, holding up my right hand to forestall them. They may have seen me hard upstairs, but that wasn't in reaction to them. Quite the contrary, actually. Nope, my dick was entirely soft and flaccid the entire time around them, and it still is now. My dick and I only want one woman, that lovely bride-to-be...Padmé, and as much as it sucks, chances are we won't be seeing her again. At least I can say I tried. She has my number, if she ever changes her mind, and I have no doubt I'll be willing to meet her, anytime, anywhere. Even if it's just as a friend and not as a fuck buddy or anything more than that. Even though I wouldn't mind one bit if it was more than that. That'd be a dream come true for me, I'll be honest.

Huh. It's still odd for me to be thinking like that, though, I gotta admit.

Anyway, I can't afford any distractions at the moment and cast my thoughts to the side. "The Open House is over, and I have places I have to be." Neither of them move or accept my answer. They almost look like they want to tag team me or something. One of them actually does the opposite and moves closer. Too close, actually.

Blonde Number One, is what I'll call her, sidles right up to me and wraps her arm tightly around mine. "Yes, you do," she purrs like a cat, making me wonder if she's got claws. "You have to be at our place."

Blonde Number Two readily agrees, sidling up to my other side and wrapping her arm tightly around my left. "And, we won't take no for an answer. After all, it isn't like we didn't see how hard you got upstairs...and the time you spent in the master suite? Come on, Gorgeous...We both know what you were doing in there. Though, I don't know why you just didn't ask us to join you." She bats her eyes at me in a way she must think is charming or attractive, maybe even sexy, but I find it to be extremely unattractive. At least when I'm bringing my game, I don't lose my self respect or dignity, same for when I'm dancing. "You know, we would've given you a hand...or two."

I pull my arms away from them both, and take a couple of steps back. "You have the wrong idea, ladies." My voice hardens, eyes narrowed in warning. "What you saw upstairs wasn't in reaction to either of you, or both of you; rather, it was me thinking of another woman entirely."

The blondes don't seem to believe me, and they step back closer again. Just as I'm about to tell them off, in no uncertain terms, someone- a woman, clears her throat. Both blondes spin around while my own head whips up in astonishment. I just look on in utter shock, not believing what my eyes are seeing.

Is that really her?

No, it can't be.

My eyes must be seeing what they want to see.

"I believe he was telling you both off, and being rather polite about it." Padmé says, her arms crossed against her breasts, which are beautifully accentuated by the movement, making me wonder if she's doing that on purpose or not. And yeah, this can't possibly be my eyes playing tricks on me. "But, I won't be, leave us. NOW." The look on her face is enough to let them know she means business. All I can do is gulp, my eyes glued to my dream girl.

The blondes surprisingly do leave, shooting a nasty look Padmé's way, but walking back towards their car, getting in, starting it up, and driving around the nice marble waterfall statue in the center of the driveway of the house and out through the gate onto the city streets.

Once they're gone, we stand in silence for God knows how long.

There are so many questions running through my mind, so many in fact that I don't even know what to ask first. The fact that she's here, in person, rather than calling me on my cell has to mean something, right? Or, is she here just to tell me in person that we can never be what I want us to be? In a way, that's what I need, even if it isn't what I want. Ever since last Friday night, I've been absolutely going out of my fucking mind about her, and I've needed to see her.

And, here she is.

"Another woman entirely, huh?" Is what she says first, and I stupidly nod, completely at a loss for words. "Well, she's a lucky woman."

I can't help but agree. "That she is," I say. "But, she knows how to reach me, y'know, if she ever wants to meet up."

I'm playing it coy, not wanting to show her just how much I'm craving her. She's all I've been thinking about since I left her that night last week, and she's been driving me out of my ever loving mind. Day and night, I can't stop thinking about her.

Well, if she wants me, then here I am. But, if she's staying with her fiancé and is still getting married to him this weekend, then I need to know so I can try and get her out of my mind.

As hard I know that'll be. She's a one of a kind woman, one I'm sure I won't ever find again.

God knows I've tried for years and come up empty.

Until now.

She nods, taking a step closer to me and bites her lip. It's obvious she's nervous, and it gives me hope. If she didn't want to see me again or want anything to do with me, then why track me down? All she had to do was throw my business card in the trash and forget about me.

That isn't what she did though, so what does this mean? "Oh," she says, her eyes meeting mine. "She does know, very much so, and she also couldn't get you out of her head, no matter how hard she tried."

My breath hitches. She's been...fantasizing about me? Good. It's nice to know it wasn't just me being pervy. "Yeah?" I say, arching an eyebrow. "Funny, I can't seem to get her out of my head either. As you've no doubt heard."

She nods, and I can't help but take in her perfect feminine form as she stands before me. It's obvious that she wasn't exactly planning this. She's dressed casually, like she decided coming here last minute and just threw on some clothes in a hurry and drove on over.

If that's what happened, I love it. Because that's how I am, acting on the spur of the moment. It's also how I tend to live my life. I may have plans for the future, true, like my eventual business empire, but I live in the moment and enjoy life.

I'd be lying though if I didn't have thoughts run through my mind about a future with Padmé, even if I know absolutely nothing else about her other than her name and the fact that she's engaged to be married to another man, dammit...or is she?

Finally, she talks, taking another step closer to me. "I called off my engagement." I forget how to breathe at her words. That's exactly what I wanted to hear, but to hear her actually say the words? It's mind blowing. She called off her engagement? For me? Holy shit! "You made me realize that what I had wasn't what I really wanted. I've noticed it before, I guess, but felt as though I had to go through with it. After all, I'd already said yes, and we'd already sent out the invitations and planned everything out. All we had to do was go to the lake house and say, 'I do.'"

She pauses, her eyes scanning my face for a reaction. I'm not sure what she sees. I'm not sure what my face even looks like right now. I feel frozen in place, like I'm dreaming and just waiting for the alarm clock to go off to wake me up out of this beautiful, beautiful dream.

But, it doesn't happen, and she continues speaking, "I don't know what it is about you, Anakin. I can't explain it, but I feel that I owe it to you and to myself to see if there's anything real between us, to-"

I shut her up by placing my right index finger over her mouth, and that couldn't have been a stupider move. All I feel is her soft, luscious lips against the pad of my finger, and I desperately want them to feel them against my own. To mold my lips against hers and to kiss her breath away.

I can't do that, though. Not right now. Maybe later, but first, I have to say something.

Gaining some semblance of control over myself, I drop my hand down to my side and slide it into the pocket of my dress slacks, trying to think of something suave to say. "I was planning on going home and cooking myself some dinner. But, I'd love it if you'd join me. We can talk there, in private, and I promise, I won't try or do anything you don't want me to. I'll be a perfect gentleman, and even keep my clothes on this time."

I manage a smile that I hope is reassuring, and I think it is, as a beautiful blush fills her cheeks and an answering smile sweeps across her lips.

She nods. "Sure, just give me your address, and I'll follow you over."

I reach my hand out for her phone, since I don't have her number...yet, and she hands it over. I go to her contacts, looking to see if I'm there, and I'm thrilled to find that I am. I press my contact info and add in my address, save it, and then hand the phone back to her.

"Just pull out of here and take a right. I'll be right behind you. I just need to make sure the gate locks properly and then we can drive over."

She nods and walks over to her car, a really nice looking cherry red Mazda Cx-5, climbs in, does as I say, and after I drive through and double check the gate, we're out on the road in no time. She follows behind me the whole way, and a half hour later, I'm pulling into my apartment complex parking lot and parking my truck, locking it up. Padmé parks her car, and I meet her at the front of hers.

She gives me a smile as she exits her car, locks it up, and then joins me. I smile back and offer her my hand, and a jolt of wanting rushes through me from my head down to my toes when she wraps her small warm hand around my own larger one, and I try my best to hide the shiver of desire that courses through me, as I lead us to the front door, through the main lobby, and to the elevator.

The elevator takes forever to get to my floor, my heart is flip-flopping in my chest the whole time. I actually think my palms are sweaty. Fuck! What's happening to me? I can't help but wonder. This has never happened to me before, and God knows I've had plenty of women ride up this exact same elevator to my apartment in the past. More than I can count actually, but I also never wanted a woman before like I want the one standing so close to me that I can feel our legs brush against each other's and feel her soft, smooth arm touching mine.

The elevator doors open, and I step out, feeling like I'm finally able to breathe again, and we walk hand-in-hand down the corridor to my apartment. I take the keys out of my pants pocket and unlock the door, twisting the knob and pushing it open.

"Sorry for the mess," I say, letting her pass me before shutting and locking the door behind us. I flick on the overhead recessed lighting, and Shorty rushes over to us, his nails clicking on the hardwood flooring, barking excitedly in greeting. "But, I wasn't exactly expecting company."

A few different articles of clothing lie around the room, and the coffee table is a little messy. That's all that's really out of place. Still, I don't want her thinking I'm a slob.

Because, I'm not. My mother raised me to keep my room nice and tidy, and that's how I keep my apartment.

I drop down to a knee and pull Shorty against me, rubbing his belly, petting him. "This is Shorty, by the way, my little buddy." Padmé smiles and drops to a knee too and pets him on the head, rubbing his ears gently.

Shorty likes it, a lot and rolls over for her, rubbing up against her blue jeans, inviting her to rub his belly. "Hi, Shorty," she says in a sing song childlike voice, smiling, "You're a handsome little guy, aren't you? Yes, you are."

I watch her with a smile. It's nice to know she's a dog person. Things would be really awkward if she wasn't, because there's no way in hell I'd ever get rid of him to satisfy any woman. And, I'm glad to see Shorty really seems to like her, too.

She looks over to me with a smile. "You have a really nice place here. Do you live alone?" She looks around my apartment and seems to mean what she says.

I am rather proud of it. It's a nice two bedroom apartment, with modern appliances, hardwood floors throughout, vaulted ceilings, washer/dryer hookup, two bathrooms, one en suite in my master bedroom with a Jacuzzi bathtub, and the second out in the hall.

The second bedroom I converted into a home gym, even if there's one here in my apartment complex. However, one of the walls, the wall to the left of the door is fully made up of floor to ceiling mirrors so I can practice my dance moves. It's not something I'd do in front of people who live here, obviously. They don't know I'm a male stripper. I mean, it's not exactly something I advertise to my neighbors.

All in all, I'm proud of what I do and proud of what I've accomplished in my life, to be able to call this place mine. It's the nicest place I've ever lived in, and I absolutely love it.

I smile and nod. Padmé's still petting Shorty, and it's stupid, I know, but I'm actually jealous of my own dog. Yep, I'm freaking jealous that her hands are on my dog, and not on me, where they should be. It's stupid and ridiculous, but I can't help it. "Nope. It's just me and my little buddy," I nod to Shorty.

She smiles again, her white pearly teeth shining. "It's seems kinda big just for the two of you." She's right. It is. but I like my space, and I can more than comfortably afford to live in this high end apartment complex.

I stand to my feet, and she follows suit, and I lead her over to my kitchen, taking off my navy suit jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack in my living room before I do. My living room is rather large, twenty by fifteen feet. I have a large sixty inch, flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above a brick fireplace. Speakers hang up on the wall in the corners of the room. My home entertainment system is state of the art and something I'm rather proud of, too. Framed pictures of my mother and myself from years ago hang up around the parlor, and I always get a bittersweet feeling when I lay eyes upon them.

I shake my head, trying to clear it of those thoughts, and I step into my kitchen, an L-shaped, granite topped island separating the kitchen from the living room. The cabinets are made of real wood and stained a dark mahogany, and all of the appliances are stainless steel. The counter tops are all black and gray granite. It's a sleek and modern space, which I'm also proud of, and I open up the fridge to see what I've got to offer my guest. A grin instantly makes its way on my face when I see the steaks I bought yesterday.

"You're not a vegetarian or a vegan, are you?" I ask Padmé, hoping she's not. I'm starving and would like to eat some meat, but if she is then, I guess a salad it is.

Thankfully, she shakes her head. "God no," she laughs. "My mother stuffed enough salad down my throat growing up to almost make me never want to eat any again."

I smile at the sound of her laugh. It's the first time I've heard it, and I realize I want to hear her laugh some more. It's also nice to hear that small tidbit of information about her too. My own mother was much the same way, and the pain of losing her begins to grip my heart again, but I shake it away. "Awesome! Because I don't know about you, but I'm starving." I haven't eaten all day, at least not since lunch and that was more than six hours ago.

I get busy pulling out the pots and pans, and then the potatoes, steak, and everything else I need to cook us some dinner.

Padmé takes a seat at the island, sitting on one of the black stools on the other side of the island, opposite me. "Me too. Is there anything I can do to help?"

I nod, glad she's offered to help. "Sure, peel a few potatoes for me?" I push them over to her, and slide her a vegetable peeler.

She takes them and digs right in, peeling the potatoes as I get everything else ready. "Who taught you to how to cook?" Her eyes are on me, then fall back down to the potatoes before looking back up to mine.

A sad smile takes hold of my lips. "My mom. She taught me how to cook starting at a young age. It was only us, you see, and she worked three jobs to provide for us, so she wasn't always home, and she wanted to make sure I could feed myself for those times when she wasn't home to cook for us." It's more than what I wanted to say, more than what I've ever told anyone before, ever.

But, it's just so easy to talk to her, and I find myself wanting her to know me. To get her to know the wonderful woman who raised me, because she meant everything to me, and I want Padmé to know that.

Just like I want to know all about her. "You cook?" I ask her, peering over at her from the stove where I turn it on.

I catch her nodding, a beautiful smiling gracing her beautiful face. "I do. My mother taught both my sister and myself. She said it's something everyone should know how to do. She taught us to be self reliant, to not have to rely on any man to care for us."

That's admirable, and I find myself wanting to know even more about her. "She sounds like a smart woman," I say, taking a few steps over to the island and watch her peel the potatoes. It feels domestic, and oddly, I'm kinda enjoying it. A lot. "And, a good mom."

Much like my own mother. Always putting me before herself. It may have been her job to care for me, she was my mom after all, but she always went above and beyond for me. Never letting me feel unloved, or unwanted, no matter how hard her life may have been with me in it.

She sacrificed everything for me, and I owe it to her memory to live up to the man she raised me to be. To be the son that she'd be proud of, and that is what pushes me to be the best man I can be, day in and day out. Not to mention the type of father I want to be one day, loving and attentive, willing to sacrifice anything for my kids. Just like she always did for me.

"She is," Padmé smiles, her lips catching my full attention. It takes real effort to restrain my carnal urges of reaching across the island and pulling her face to mine, locking our lips together. I made her a promise though, and I'm going to stick by it. "And, your mom is, too."

I sigh and nod, sadly. "She was, yeah. She taught me a lot about life, also making sure that I could take care of myself without her having to worry about me."

Padmé pauses, her eyes meeting mine. I see sympathy in her brown eyes, but am glad to see there isn't any pity in there. I don't need pity from anyone, nor do I want any.

We lapse into silence, and I'm glad it's not uncomfortable. Padmé goes right back into peeling the rest of the potatoes, and she's done in no time. I cut them and drop them into the pot of now boiling water that's sitting on the stove.

I prep the pan for the steaks, and slide them on, too. The bag of frozen corn is next to get dumped in a pot, and I start cooking that, as well. Last are the dinner rolls, and after buttering them and getting them ready, I slide the pan they're on into the already preheated oven and close the door.

Now all we have to do is wait for everything to cook, and we'll be ready to eat. "Want anything to drink?" I ask her stupidly, knowing that should've been one of the first things I asked her. Sometimes, I am a complete dumbass.

She nods. "Sure, have any beer?"

I grin mischievously. "Do I have any beer?" Shaking my head, I open the door to the fridge and pull out two bottles of beer, and using the bottle opener on my key chain, I pop off the caps. "That's about all I have." It's a joke, and I think she gets that, as I walk around the island, take a seat next to her and place her beer down before her.

"Thanks." She picks up the bottle and takes a pull on it. I do too, but my eyes are on her lips, as I envision them being wrapped around the head of my dick ready to suck me all the way to the back of her throat.

Fuck, my dick likes that image too and hardens to full mast instantly in my dress slacks. Since my dick heard her voice though, its been nearly all the way there anyway. Uncomfortably so.

Damn, the things this woman does to me...it's unlike anyother woman ever before. My dick likes women, no loves women and has no problem perking right up to get some action, but it's different with Padmé. My dick normally isn't so selective, any pretty woman will do, but ever since I first laid eyes on her, my brain and dick want the same thing.

The same woman. This woman and only this woman.

And, I'm glad we're in full agreement.

"Anytime," I raise my beer, and she clinks hers against it with a grin. I grin back, and we take another pull. So many different emotions run through me sitting this close to her. It's like sensory overload. All I smell is her. The smell of sex I smelled on the night we met is there, along with the aroma of Padmé that's like exotic flowers and a sweetness that I can't identity. Along with the smell of the beer she's drinking. "Y'know, I'm a bit surprised. I didn't peg you as a beer drinker, even if you were drinking a beer when we first met."

She's full of surprises it seems, and I'm glad to see them. I also can't wait to discover more of them, too.

"Oh yeah?" She asks, eyebrow arching. "What did you think I drink?"

I shrug, not wanting to offend her. "Maybe a fine wine? A nice frozen mixed drink maybe? Something classy, like you." I wink, and she blushes, and it's fucking adorable, and a satisfying feeling washes over me.

I've always been a player, a flirt, a ladies man. I've never been uncomfortable around females, which shouldn't be very surprising given my second job. If I was uncomfortable around women, I wouldn't be able to perform or live as I do, and I happen to love performing and living my life.

Its what I was meant to do, at least for the time being.

And, I'm good at it, very, very good at it.

I get up and check on our food, and as time passes, we talk more and more. I've never spoken to a woman so easily and honestly as I have her. Usually, I'm just playing a character to women, fulfilling their fantasies, giving them what they want, what they crave.

They don't want me. Nope, they never cared about me. What they cared about was the role I played, my body, and the services I offered to them, things that they couldn't get from their men. I was an out to them, a fun fantasy, a momentary escape from their humdrum lives, and to be honest, I never really cared that they used me, because why the hell should I care?

They got what they wanted, and I got what I wanted. It's a win, win right? Just like selling properties to my real estate clients. That's an act too, and neither of those men are the real me. They're both a front, a persona that women want, and I never really cared much about that...until I met Padmé that is.

She was the first - and only - woman who ever looked at me, for me. She didn't see the male stripper Anakin. Nope, she saw the real Anakin, and she didn't try to take anything from me. I had to make her take some pleasure from my body. I had to let her know that she could feel me up and down as long as she wanted, and yeah, that might've been a bit selfish on my part. Ok, a lot selfish.

What can I say? I couldn't help it.

I just wanted her to touch me, to feel her hands on my body, and to make her want more. I want that now too, but promises are promises, and I'm a man of my word. The ball is still in her court, and I'll let her control the speed. For now. But, if I get her in my bed tonight, then all bets are off. In the bedroom, I prefer being the one in control, the one setting the pace. Call me Caveman, but that's just the way I am.

If she wants sex tonight, I'll give her the best damn sex of her life, no holds barred, but if she just wants to talk and eat dinner with me, then that's what we'll do. Fine by me either way, because I want to see her again, and I hope there's more to this thing between us than just momentary lust.

But, seriously, just having her here in my apartment with me, is more than I ever thought would happen. And, to find out that she's no longer engaged to be married to that other guy? Because of me? Hell, it's a fucking dream come true.

One that I hope continues for the rest of our lives.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you all liked this chapter!

The next chapter is already in the works, this is just part one really, and the next chapter will also be in Anakin's POV. When I originally thought of writing this, I wrote it with the intention of making this mostly smut, a romance, sure, but filled with smut.

I enjoy writing rated M content, and will continue doing so with this story (and my others). With that said, the next chapter will definitely be the most explicit (for this story) yet. Anakin and Padmé have both been fantasizing about the other and what happens when the two of them are alone in an apartment together...

You'll see in the next chapter. I won't say when it'll be posted, but it'll be out sooner rather than later.

Please follow, favorite and review if you haven't already! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The chapter you've all been waiting for...**

 **Ba** **che** **lorette Party: Chapter 5**

* * *

 ** _Anakin Skywalker_**

"All set," I tell her, as I reach up into the cabinet above the dishwasher and grab two plates and then dish up our meal. I slide a plate of piping hot food over to Padmé from across the island and slide my own plate over to my seat next to her. I grab our silverware out of the kitchen drawer next to the sink and then grab some napkins from the napkin holder by the stove. Setting our utensils down on the counter between our two plates, I arch my brow at her. "Want another beer? I also have _Coke,_ if you'd rather have that."

She smiles. " _Coke_ is fine. Thanks."

"Sure thing, coming right up," I say with a nod, grabbing two individual bottles of _Coke_ from the fridge and setting those on the counter before grabbing two glasses from another cabinet and then filling them with ice and setting them next to our plates. Finally, I grab the salt and pepper from next to the stove and set those on the counter as well. "Voila! Dinner is served, milady!" I wave my hand grandly at our meal, a big grin on my face. I admit I wasn't expecting company tonight, but I couldn't be more pleased at just _who_ my dinner guest is.

I'm just glad I went grocery shopping yesterday so I'd have something to actually _cook_ for her!

I pour us each a glass of _Coke_ and walk around the island, sliding hers over to her and taking a sip of my own before placing it down on the granite countertop beside my plate before sliding onto my own bar stool.

She takes a sip of hers too and sets it down. "Thank you," she says with a gracious smile, "it looks, and smells, _delicious_." I don't want to toot my own horn here, but I _know_ it is. I'm a pretty damn good cook, I must say, and have been feeding myself for years now. After all, I'm a big guy. I like to eat and can eat a _lot_. My mom used to say I was a bottomless pit. Guess all growing boys are like that, but I _still_ like to eat now that I'm fully grown, and at six foot two inches and two hundred pounds of lean, solid, rock-hard muscle, I can pack food away like it's going out of style.

And steak just happens to be one of my _specialties._

I pick up my silverware, but being a gentleman, I allow her to begin eating first. I wait for her to take her first bite before slicing into my own steak. Glancing over, I see Padmé's eyes closed and a smile growing on her beautiful face, as she chews slowly and then swallows. "Like it?" I ask, hoping she likes my cooking…and wants more. Of it and of _me._

She nods her head vigorously and turns to me with a wide smile. "Yes! It's wonderful! The best steak I've _ever_ had. Just don't tell my _mother_ I said that!"

I laugh, her words, along with the fact that she _likes_ my cooking, making me happier than words could ever describe. "I won't say a word. Promise!" We share a quick grin and dig back into our meal.

We each take a couple more bites of food before she asks, "So, your mom taught you how to cook steak like this, huh?" she glances at me and then turns back to her plate and cuts another piece of steak.

I shake my head, and laugh, stabbing my own piece of meat with my fork, "Nope. Gordon Ramsey. _YouTube_. They taught me everything I needed to know. I'm telling ya…My phone _is_ my cookbook."

She bursts out laughing, "Nice!" before she turns back to continue eating. I pause midchew just to admire her for a moment, and I can't help thinking again how _beautiful_ her laughter sounds to me. I really would love to hear that sound _every_ single day for the _rest_ of my life. No lie. Hearing _her_ laugh lifts my own spirits. Honestly, she's such a…a _soothing_ presence, and I'm sure she doesn't even realize it.

 _Where have you_ been _all my life, Padmé? I've been searching for you everywhere._

No shit. That's the fucking _truth._ Everywhere I went, I wondered if the woman I was searching for was out there, just waiting for me to find her. And as time went on, with no sign of _her_ anywhere, I became frustrated – especially after the loss of my mom - and lost myself in a seemingly never-ending cycle of one night stands, seeking physical comfort in momentary pleasure when _emotional comfort,_ which was what I needed the most, was nowhere to be found. It's partly why I never really cared that women used me. I certainly didn't care two shits for any of _them_ , and I knew damn well that none of them really cared about _me_ and that they could care less about the emotional upheaval I was feeling over the loss of my mother, over being completely and utterly _alone_ in this world. All they wanted was a hard dick and a man who really knew how to _use_ it.

And dancing and stripping certainly helped teach me well how to do _that..._ and I simply took what they willingly offered me, in exchange for giving them what _they_ wanted. Like I said, in that respect, it was a win-win, both parties getting what was…well, _expected…_ if not necessarily what was _wanted_. At least by _me._

But _this_...Being here in my apartment with Padmé, just eating together and having a good time just talking, _this_ is what I've been craving, what I've _needed_ for so long. Acceptance for who I _am_ as a _person,_ and it's so damn refreshing! Honestly, it's like I've finally found my other half…the half that's been missing all my life. Now, like I've said, I have _no_ problem finding women to sleep with. Not to sound arrogant or cocky about it, I mean, it's just the truth, but I always wanted _more_ than just a random woman to pleasure and to have pleasure _me_ physically, _sexually_.

No, I wanted a woman who would care about _me_ , like me for _me_ , and maybe even fall in _love_ with _me_. Until now, until _Padmé_ came into my life, I didn't think I'd ever find her. Now that I have, there's nothing I won't do to make her _mine,_ because whether she realizes it or not, I'm already _hers._

More than she could ever know.

And, I knew it from the moment I first laid eyes on her when she opened the door to greet me.

My task now is to get _her_ to realize that, too.

We continue to eat our meal in what can only be described as companionable silence. It isn't uncomfortable at all, even if I'm trying my damnedest to impress her and get her to see that there's more to me than the male stripper she already knows. Much more, in fact.

I may love what I do, and be damn good at it, if I do say so myself, but dancing exotically doesn't _define_ me as a person. It's a skill, a hobby, a talent I have that I've trained at and cultivated as an adjunct to my real estate income. It's just something I enjoy doing, something that helps pay the bills, and fill the time and monotony of my otherwise very boring life.

Dancing also helped me get past the loss of my mother. It's cathartic in a way, freeing, and allows me to express myself through my dance routine. Actions speak louder than words, it's said, and that is certainly true when I'm dancing. If I didn't have my dancing, I wouldn't be who I am today, and, most importantly, I wouldn't have met Padmé.

And, I'll always be _extremely_ grateful that I have because I already _know_ deep in my soul that she's _the one_ for me. My proverbial 'one and only,' my soulmate, my life partner, my other half, and the woman who will one day bear my children. Just like _I'm_ the one for _her_. How do I know? Because just after one night, _one_ encounter with me, she called off her wedding and broke up with her fiancé and _pursued_ me. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't feel what _I_ felt as soon as our eyes first met. That's how I know.

We _belong_ together. Forever. I'm certain of it.

I just need to make sure _she_ sees that and getting her to see that means getting her to know the _real_ me. Not the stripper facade, but _me_. Anakin, the guy who likes to cook and to tinker with mechanics and cars, the guy who likes to build things, the guy who secretly loves to watch rom coms and actually knows _how_ to clean his apartment, the guy who wants to shower her with affection and help her fulfill _her_ dreams. The guy who wants to be with her – and _only_ her – for the rest of his life. The guy who wants to father her children and raise a family with her, _together._ Hey, I may be young, but I've sown enough wild oats in my time for five guys my age, and I _know_ I'm ready to settle down with the love of my life – now that I've _finally_ , at long last, found her – and start a family. _Our_ family.

"How's the food?" I ask to break the silence.

She tilts her head to the side, giving me a smile that has my gut muscles clenching, my balls drawing up tight, and my heart beat accelerating. _Damn, she's so fucking beautiful._ "Fishing for compliments, are we?" she teases, with a wink.

 _Fuck! She's definitely meant for me. No doubt about it. No woman_ **ever** _turned me on so fast or ever turned the tables on me. For once in my life, I am_ so _not in control here. And, y'know, I'm actually ok with that._

I take a breathy sigh and shake off my momentary shock. Then return to myself and give her my best panty-dropping grin, "When it comes to you? _Always_." And, I wink right back.

An adorable blush fills her features, and _fuck_ , she looks even more beautiful as her face turns rosy red. I'm glad to see I have that same effect on her, even with my clothes on.

She takes a moment to compose herself, clears her throat delicately, and then answers, "Well then, I'd say you should open up your own restaurant, because this food is the best I've _ever_ eaten." The way she says it, I have no doubt she's being nothing but honest. She's not slinging false praise at me or blowing sunshine off my ass here. She _really_ means it, and I couldn't be any more thrilled that she likes my cooking that much.

I always knew I was a good cook. Growing up I would always make my own food when Mom wasn't home, and over time, I changed up some ingredients in some cases to see if I could make the food taste any better, and I've come to have some of my own recipes. Nobody could truly replicate the food I make, just like nobody could really replicate my dance moves.

They're one hundred percent all me, all _Anakin_.

And, I want her to know _all_ of me. " _Well,_ I may like cooking, but I could never open or run my own restaurant." I got my plans for my business empire, true, and having a restaurant doesn't _quite_ make my 'To Do' list. "Cooking for me is a creative outlet, much like my dancing is, all original and all me. I like to do all my own stuff, and I like for it to be more _intimate._ Much more. Like a romantic intimate meal for two…or a private _lap_ _dance_ for one" I pause and slowly turn to lock my gaze with hers, letting her see both the sincerity _and_ the truth of my words in my eyes, which I know are smoldering with repressed want and need. But, damn, it's hard to keep that inferno in check. I want her _so_ much, more than my next breath.

We just stare, frozen, at each other for several long moments, our gazes locked, before she visibly trembles and takes a shuddering breath in. She doesn't reply, just nods her head and smiles faintly, then turns back to her meal, but I can't help noticing her nipples are now hard as rocks and poking against the soft fabric of her bra and t-shirt, and I inhale deeply, my eyes widening (and darkening even more with desire), as they remain locked on her breasts. I lick my lips, because I'd love nothing more than to pull her shirt and bra right off her and taste those hard nubs for myself, and as I imagine myself doing just that, I feel a raging boner come to life in my dress slacks, and I know I'm going to have to fight my _very_ carnal urges and will my dick to stand down, because I made her a _promise_ that I would be a perfect gentleman tonight.

And, I am _not_ a man who reneges on his word.

Besides that, I don't want her to think I'm _just_ out for sex alone here. Because, I'm not. I want a connection with her, a _real_ relationship. To share myself… _all_ of me…with her, and for to her do the same with me, to share _all_ of herself with me.

We continue to eat in silence, glancing at each other and smiling between bites. Before long, we're both done with our meals. I still have extra leftover, so I ask, "Would you like more? There's enough for seconds, if you want."

She wipes her mouth with her napkin and shakes her head, "No, thank you. It was wonderful, though."

I nod my head and go to stand up, reaching over to grab her plate when she suddenly hops up from her bar stool and holds her hand up to forestall me, "Nope! Let me do that." I plop back down on my own bar stool and watch as she reaches over, grabs my own plate from the counter and then walks behind me, around the counter, and into the kitchen, placing the dishes in the sink and promptly begins rinsing them off before bending over to place the plates and utensils in the dishwasher.

As she moves to the stove to start cleaning up the leftovers, I start to stand again, and she waves me back to my seat. "No. Allow me. You did all the cooking. Only fair that I do the cleanup. Now, where are your storage containers?" I tell her which cabinet the plastic storage bowls and lids are in, and she reaches up, opening the cabinet and grabbing several bowls down, dumping the remaining vegetables, steak, and biscuits in different bowls, covering them with lids, and then storing them in the fridge. Next, she grabs another couple of _Cokes_ from the fridge, pouring us each another drink, which I sit contentedly and sip, just watching her moving round in my kitchen with ease, depositing the various pots and pans in the dishwasher in between sips of her own drink.

Fuck, this is nice. _Really_ nice. I'm not used to this kind of _companionship_ with a woman. Most women I'm around are waiting for me to take my clothes off and fuck them. I've never had a woman up to my apartment for anything else _but_ fucking, actually.

So, this is a real first for me…in more ways than one. Though, admittedly, if I had things _my_ way, we'd already be in my bed, getting to know one another _intimately._ But, I am a man of my word, and a promise is a promise. I am going to let _her_ set the pace tonight. No matter how _uncomfortable_ that might be for me. If all she wants to do is talk, we'll talk. Fine by me. Communication is important in a relationship, after all.

But, if I _do_ get her in my bed tonight, all bets are off, because I am a take charge kinda guy in the bedroom. And, that is something Padmé will get used to – and quickly. She'll also probably enjoy it.

I'll make _sure_ she does.

After all the pots, pans, and dishes are loaded up, she finds the detergent under the sink and gets the dishwasher going. The quiet hum of the appliance is the backdrop as we just stare at each other across the counter. Finally standing, I grab my drink and motion silently with my head toward the living room. She smiles and follows me, moving to set her glass down on the coffee table. I plop down on the sofa, and she sits down next to me, kicking her leather flats off, curling her legs up against her chest, her right arm propped against the back of the sofa, her head leaning on her hand, just watching me.

I turn to face her, leaning against the back of the sofa, " _Sooo_ …"

She smiles softly, "So."

I tilt my head and watch her, my eyes locked with hers, "Well, you obviously found me."

She nods, pushing a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, "Yeah. I, uh, looked up your website and saw you were having an Open House today. So, I decided to come and find you."

I nod slowly, reach over and grab my drink and take a sip, then set the glass down and turn back to her, deciding to ask the question that's burning a hole in my gut, "But, why'd you wait? I mean, you've had my cellphone number. You could've called me. I would've met you…anytime, anywhere. I meant what I said when I gave you my business card, Padmé."

She blushes and nods, flicking her eyes down to her curled up legs, before looking back at me, "I…" she pauses and chews on her bottom lip for a second. She must be nervous. I do the same thing when I'm nervous. It's cute. So, I wait, just watching her, not pushing her, letting her take her time. "I realized that I…felt _something_ when we met…something I've _never_ felt before…but I…I was engaged, y'know, and I needed time to really…think about things, to clear my head. I wanted a chance to talk to my sister, Sola, about all this before I…did anything. I mean, I wanted to make sure this wasn't _just_ pre-wedding jitters, y'know? That the chemistry I perceived when we first met was really _real."_

I nod my head again slowly at her words, seeing the sincerity in her eyes, her expression. I don't reply, though, just let her continue talking. "I owed it to Rush, my fiancé…as well as myself…and _you,_ too…to be certain of what I wanted… _really_ wanted…before I made any kind of decision. I mean, Rush isn't a bad guy," she shrugs and looks back in my eyes, "He's just not the right guy…for _me."_

 _Damn straight, he's not._ **I'm** _the right man for you, Padmé,_ I can't help thinking.

I slide a little closer to her, draping my left arm across the back of the sofa, my fingers almost brushing against her shoulder, watching her intently. I'm pretty sure my eyes have darkened with desire, but I reign in those feelings for the moment. I want her in my bed for sure, more than I've _ever_ wanted anything else before in my life, but this is a conversation we _need_ to have first before we take that next step. We each need to express our sincerity about what we're feeling here. Sexual attraction may be the initial catalyst between us, but physical intimacy _can't_ be the backbone of our relationship. We need more substance than that. Thus, open communication as we get to know one another is very important. Vital even, and no way am I going to skip over that. It's necessary.

I decide to answer the unspoken question that seems to hang in the air between us, and my voice drops to a deep, husky timbre, hoping I convey my sincerity in both my words and my tone, "Padmé, I felt the _same_ thing you felt when we met. I mean, when I got there to your friend's house, it was just another gig for me, but that _all_ changed the moment you opened the door. I took one look into your eyes, and I instantly felt something _I've_ never felt before either. And, it wasn't just sexual. I mean, don't get me wrong…I _was_ instantly attracted to you, but it was different than anything I've ever experienced before. I realized I wanted you… _all_ of you…and not just for sex. What I mean, Padmé, is that I don't want to _just_ fuck you. I want much more than that. I want a _relationship_ with you, and it's been driving me fucking crazy since thinking about you and imagining you going ahead with your wedding, feeling jealousy over another man having you for the rest of his life…when that's what I realized _I_ wanted with you."

Her eyes widen and her lips part slightly, and I hear her inhale sharply. Glancing down, I notice those pointed nubs again pushing against the fabric of her shirt. She exhales softly and whispers, "I…I want that, too, Anakin."

The sense of relief I feel sweeping through me would've knocked me off my feet, if I wasn't already sitting down. Confident now that we're making progress and we each feel something much more than just lust here, I slowly lean forward toward her, watching her face, her eyes, her lips, as I make my first move on her. She swallows slowly, her pupils dilating, as she leans in to meet me halfway. Then, our lips are touching for the first time, tenderly, softly. I close my eyes and groan deep in my chest.

Damn, her kiss is fucking _ambrosia._ Only way I can explain it.

Her lips are so succulent and soft as silk, and she tastes absolutely _divine._ Like nothing I've ever tasted before. I part my own lips and swipe my tongue gently across the seam of her own, asking for permission to enter. She grants it immediately, and as my tongue surges inside her mouth to wrap sensually around her own, taking firm control of the kiss, I move my arm from the back of the sofa around her shoulders, my hand sliding up into her mahogany curls to gently grasp the back of her neck, holding her in place as I deepen the kiss. She kisses me back hungrily, leaving me in no doubt that she wants this as much as I do. She grabs the front of my shirt with her hands, curling her fingers into the fabric and pulls me closer to her, and I move toward her eagerly. I can't help the hard on I've now got raging in my slacks. Her scent fills my nostrils, her taste wets my growing appetite for her, and the little mewls of pleasure she gives me almost make me insane with need.

I've kissed a lot of women in my time, but none of those kisses ever compared to _this_ one and how it's making me feel. I can literally feel it all the way down to my fucking _toes. Shit!_ I told you, there was something about _this_ woman that made me come harder than I've ever experienced before, and if I had any doubts before, I have none now – I am positive that sex with this woman will be off the damn charts. For _both_ of us.

Suddenly, she pulls back from our kiss, our lips parting with a soft _pop._ Her face and neck are flushed a lovely pink color, and she blinks, just staring into my eyes, our lips barely a breadth apart, almost ghosting over the other's.

"Anakin, do you remember what you said to me before you left the party the other night?" she asks me, her voice a husky whisper.

I nod my head slowly, eyes never leaving her face, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips, "Yeah. What about it?"

"I was…well, _hoping_ that you…you'd still like to give me that… _private_ …lap dance you promised me." Her words are soft, and she flicks her gaze back to mine, another beautiful blush sweeping across her cheeks.

Hot damn, would I _ever_ love to do that! Desire erupts inside my veins, sweeping through me hot as molten lava. Yes, I meant it when I gave her my business card and offered her a private lap dance. But, I also need to explain one thing to her first. Something she needs to understand before I _do_ give her that dance, because I also meant what I said when I promised to be a perfect gentleman tonight.

If I give her this lap dance, she needs to know that me being a perfect gentleman flies out the proverbial window. It also means this dance ends with _both_ of us naked in my bed, where we'll be all night long, fucking each other's brains out. And, I do mean _all_ night.

I think she probably knows that already, but I want to be sure she _fully_ understands what this entails. Because, I'm not gonna lie, once I get her in my bed, I'm not letting her leave it. Ever again. My mind is already made up. If she accepts this private dance, then she accepts _me_ as her man. Her one and _only_ man. Permanently. Forever.

I want her too much for anything less.

"Padmé, I would _love_ to give you that private dance, but first, I want you to understand - to _know_ – that when I said private, I really meant _intimate._ And, by intimate, I mean this dance ends with _both_ of us naked, in my bed, where we'll both spend the night coming…over and over and over _again_."

I watch her with a burning gaze, hoping she'll accept the outcome of all this.

She stares at me for a long moment, assimilating my comment, and then slowly nods her head. When she speaks, her voice is warm and smooth as honey, "Yes, I know. I was hoping you'd say that, actually."

With her consent, a feeling of near euphoria explodes deep within my gut, and I can't help the slow, feral grin that spreads across my face. Leaning over again, I give her another deep, searing kiss, a mere teaser for what is about to begin before I stand up slowly from the sofa. I reach down and grab the remote for my sound system off the coffee table, hitting the 'On' button, and immediately, one of my favorite dance songs begins to play, filling the room with a sensuous beat that just _screams_ sex. I drop the remote back on the table and turn to face her.

Almost on instinct, my body begins to sway to the music, the moves so ingrained they come as easy as breathing to me. This song is one of my favorites for private lap dances. I practice to this one the most actually. It's not commonly heard in most clubs or strip joints, because it's a slower vibe and much more sensual, designed to elongate the suspense and tease the woman's desire to near exploding point.

Which is _exactly_ what I plan to do to Padmé.

I heel-toe off my dress shoes, kicking them out of my way first. Bending over, my lips curl into a devilish smirk as I lean forward and grasp her legs behind the knees and gently pull her legs out straight over the edge of the couch. Keeping her legs pressed together, I move my hips in a slow grinding motion all the while lowering myself onto her lap, my knees pressing into the sofa on either side of her thighs. I pump my hips forward to the beat of the music, barely brushing my crotch – and my rock hard dick – across the surface of her thighs. My smirk grows when I feel a shudder course through her body, and I look down once more to see her nipples clearly outlined through the fabric of her shirt and bra. Tonight, I am going to give her the _best_ lap dance I've _ever_ given any woman in my life. She will receive the very _pinnacle_ of my striptease prowess.

Leaning forward, I brace my hands across the top of the sofa on either side of her head as I continue to grind myself back and forth across her lap. Leaning forward, I dip my head and ghost my nose in a whisper soft touch across her cheek, breathing her tantalizing scent in, before brushing the tips of our noses together. She inhales sharply, and gazing into her eyes, I see those brown orbs are wide open and desire is smoldering in their depths. Good. I continue my slow grind as I capture her lips again with my own in an open mouth kiss, gently, teasing her lips with the tip of my tongue without sliding it inside her mouth. She slides her tongue toward my lips, chasing my own, but I retreat, denying her what she wants, and when she groans at my action, I can't help the husky chuckle that erupts from me.

Leaning down to place my lips next to her ear, I whisper, "Like how I feel?" though I already know the answer to my question, and it thrills me to no end when she gasps and simply nods her head. It's like I've rendered her speechless or something. The idea that I have _this_ kind of impact on her – and all I've removed are my _shoes_ – is empowering, intoxicating even. And, whets my own appetite for more. Pulling back slightly, I stare into her eyes and bring my right hand up to gently cup her cheek, rubbing my thumb gently across her cheekbone. "I've been fantasizing about this since we met, Padmé. You have _no_ idea what you do to me." With that admission, I seal our lips together and surge my tongue forcefully into her mouth, demanding and taking her own in a heated embrace, tilting my head left and right at various angles, sliding our lips and tongues together in a searing kiss, leaving us both breathless and panting for more when I pull back.

And, then I'm standing back up, and I grin wolfishly when she actually whimpers at the lack of contact. She needn't worry. I'm not going _anywhere._ Reaching up, I slowly start to loosen my tie before leisurely pulling it off. Thankfully, I realize I have the extended version of this song playing on repeat. Good. I think I might need it for this lap dance. Because I intend to draw this out until we're _both_ ready to explode.

Bending forward again, I grab her wrists, pulling her hands together in front of her, and then I loop my tie around her wrists and lift her arms up, sliding my body under her arms so her arms are wrapped around my neck. I wrap my long arms around her waist and lift her up, so we're both standing, and then I start to grind my hips against her own. Moving my hands down to cup her sweet pert ass, I press her groin flush against my own, leaving her without a doubt as to how _I'm_ feeling. As we sway together in time to the music, I lean down and kiss her again, swiping my tongue along her lip, demanding entry once more, which she grants me immediately. Our tongues duel inside her mouth, tangling together as I suck on hers. Another glorious mewl of pleasure can be heard deep in her throat, and a swell of primal masculine pride rises within me.

She likes what I'm doing. Good, because no fucking way am I stopping.

Pulling back from the kiss, I reach up and lift her arms from around my neck. I grab my tie with one hand and unwrap her wrists before flinging my tie over my head. I ease her back down till she's sitting once again, and then I start to unbutton my shirt, pausing between each button, dragging out the suspense. All the while, I keep up the pumping and swaying motion of my hips. Her eyes are wide, as her gaze moves from my hips to my shirt and then back to my eyes. Finally, after several long drawn out minutes, I reach down and pull the tails of my shirt out from inside my slacks, letting the fabric hang as I undo the last couple of buttons and then ease the shirt down off my shoulders to slide it down my arms before I fling it away into a corner of the living room, never taking my eyes off her face.

Her face is flushed, and I notice her nipples are still hard as diamonds, calling out to me from where they protrude against her shirt. Smirking, I roll my hips in a series of circles as I twirl to present my back to her, giving her a nice glimpse of my firm ass inside my slacks. I reach up with my hands and grasp the back of my undershirt at the base of my neck, and I slowly pull that up, inch by tantalizing inch, to reveal the smooth muscles of my back. I can feel the pure heat of her gaze, as she visibly devours me with her eyes. Once my head is free of my undershirt, I toss it aside, too, bringing my arms up to lace my fingers behind my head, and I pivot on my feet, spreading my legs to shoulder width apart, dropping into a half squat, which pulls the fabric of my slacks tightly across my muscular thighs and accentuates the very obvious bulge in my groin. Giving her several pointed pumps of my hips, I ease back up to my full height, and pull my hands from behind my head, and then slowly rub them over my rock hard pecs, my own flat nipples hard and tight from the desire pulsing in my veins.

Her eyes follow the slow descent of my hands down across my six pack abs toward my belt at my waist, which I gradually undo, before I jerk it off in one smooth, practiced move. Grabbing my belt in both hands, I throw it over her head, sliding it down her back to her waist, then I pull her up to stand once again. Using the belt as a brace, I press our bodies together, grinding my groin against hers. She moans softly, and slides her small, soft hands up my belly, over my chest to rest them on my broad shoulders. Letting go of one end of the belt, I toss it behind me, and then bring both my hands to her thighs. As we sway to the pulse of the music, I slide my hands up the outside of her thighs, up over her ass, to the hem of her shirt. Grasping it in my fingers, I leisurely peel her shirt up, up, up…until it's over her head and off her arms. Flinging it across the back of the couch, I slide my hands back down her arms to her shoulders.

Fuck, she's _beyond_ gorgeous! She may not have the largest breasts I've ever had the pleasure of touching, but hers are magnificent, in both shape and size, round and firm, and her nipples are practically begging me to suckle them, which I will do soon enough. She is wearing a lovely royal blue lace and satin pushup bra that accentuates her feminine curves magnificently.

I suddenly feel my mouth go bone dry.

I _really_ need to pick the pace up a little, because she's not the _only_ one being teased here, and I don't know how much longer I can last.

Sliding my index fingers under the straps of her bra, I ease them down her upper arms, accentuating the upper curves of her breasts even more. Sliding my open palms around her rib cage, I grasp the clasp of her bra in my hands and undo it before reaching up to brush the garment down her arms slowly, until her nipples literally pop free of their confinement, and I groan at the sight. Her nipples are perfectly centered on each breast, a lovely pinkish rose in color. Her areolas are drawn tight and wrinkled where they support the base of her nipples, which jut out, begging for my touch.

And, I oblige. Quite happily, I might add.

I twirl her around until her bare back is flush against my chest, and I slide my open palms up her flat belly to cup her breasts firmly but gently in my hands. Heavier than I expected for one so petite, I knead them expertly, grasping her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers. Meanwhile, her head tilts to the left, and I bend my own down to lick my tongue around the shell of her ear, before gently nipping it with my teeth. I suckle her earlobe with my tongue and lips, as I continue to play with her nipples, rubbing, pinching, and pulling on those puckered nubs.

Her ass is pressed against the hard bulge in my pants, and I press my hips forward, rubbing my arousal against her backside, as the music continues to play. Releasing her breasts, I brush my fingertips down across the skin of her belly, feeling shivers race across her skin, leaving goosebumps in the wake of my touch. Reaching the waistband of her jeans, I slowly undo the snap and then grasp the zipper in my thumb and forefinger and ease it down slowly, parting the fabric. Once the zip is undone, I slide my hands inside her jeans, moving around to her hips and then slide the denim fabric down her toned thighs. Sweeping one arm under her knees, I abruptly lift her off her feet, depositing her flat on her back on the sofa before I grasp her jeans now bunched at her knees and swiftly pull them completely off her legs, tossing them over my shoulder, hearing them land on top of the coffee table.

Staring down at her, it takes everything in me to continue dancing. She's _so_ fucking gorgeous. I doubt she even realizes just _how_ beautiful she really is. She's wearing a pair of lacy bikini panties in the same royal blue fabric as her bra. Through the lace at her groin, I can see the dark thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs, and it's a wonder I don't come right then and there at the sight. Deciding to begin wrapping this up, I increase the movements of my hips, all the while undoing the clasp and zipper of my own slacks. Easing them down my long muscular legs, I kick them to the side once I step out of them, leaving me in only my boxers and my navy dress socks.

I drop into a squat, my thighs spread wide, clearly revealing the tight tent in the fabric over my groin, which is actually becoming quite uncomfortable for me. The fabric is chafing against the head of my dick, the friction only increasing my desire for her. Making sure her eyes are concentrated right where I want them - on my _dick_ , or at least where it's about to break free from - I slowly, sensually, hook my thumbs inside my underwear and teasingly, slide them down my hips. Her eyes are on me the whole time, her big brown beautiful eyes growing bigger and darker by the second. Shit, this is difficult, considering the raging desire coursing through my veins, but this is what I do and I'm good at it.

 _Very_ good at it.

I slide my boxers down just a little, my dick growing harder and larger by the second and straining against its confines, and some of my nest of dark blond curly hair breaks free over the top of the waistband. Then more, and some more, until my dick has finally had enough, breaks free of its confines and shows itself, as it stands at attention, hard as a rock, proud and telling us both _exactly_ where it wants to go. Inside Padmé's pussy. I push my boxers down my legs, kicking them away, and then stand naked before her, rubbing my belly with my hands and slowly thrusting my hips back and forth in time with the music, simulating the movements of our soon coming union.

And her wide brown eyes are locked on my groin…exactly where I want them.

Now that I got mine off, I'm going for the prize. _Hers_. I waggle my brows at her, and step forward and kneel on the sofa, spreading her legs on either side of me to give me a beautiful view of what she's hiding from me between her legs. Her eyes are still on me, now on my face, her eyes locking onto mine. I give her a grin and then lean my long body across my sofa so I'm lying belly down on it and my head is between her thighs. " _Mine_ ," I growl as I take her pretty lace bikini panties between my teeth and bite down on it, dragging it sensually down her thighs and her legs. Her whole body shudders, goosebumps break free from what she knows is coming and- yes, _coming_ , and _lots_ of it-as I drag her panties off her legs and spit them out onto the hardwood floor.

Padmé's all mine for the taking, and her hands travel across her flat belly, dragging slowly across her skin like she's begging to be touched. _Don't you worry, Padmé. I'll take care of you,_ I say in my mind and begin to do just that. I retake my place, laying between her thighs and give her another grin as I go right where I want to. Her pussy. I inhale her beautiful scent, my eyes fall shut, and I even rub my nose in her pink folds. _Fuck,_ her scent is intoxicating! Unlike anything I've ever experienced before. She moans, and I hear her head fall back onto the sofa. I smile to myself, and rub my nose in her thick curls, inhaling her scent some more until she is all I smell.

I never want to smell anything else. If there was a cologne- or hell, a perfume that smelled like _this,_ I would spray it on just so I could always have her scent wrapped around me. High on Padmé, this guy is.

"You smell so damn good," I tell her softly on a growl before giving her a taste of what's to come, and a taste is what I take. Literally. A long, slow taste of what I want a taste of everyday for the _rest_ of my long life. And, _holy shit,_ does she taste _amazing._ She moans again, a sound that I want to ingrain into my memory. I lick a torturously slow path up her folds and back down again, paying special attention to her throbbing clit, flicking it with quick lashes of my tongue, and with every moan, I pick up the speed, and then lick my way into her _wet_ folds, thrusting my tongue deep inside her and drink her in. Her body is shivering under me and _way_ before I would've liked, then her whole body suddenly shakes, and she almost wails my name as her muscles tense, and she unexpectedly explodes into my mouth at that moment. "Mmm," I groan as I drink her dry and then pepper light little kisses up her folds, her distended clit, stopping to swirl my tongue wetly round and round that sensitive nub, up through her dark thatch of curls, up her flat belly, dipping into her navel, across the bottom of her rib cage, up the underside of each breast, kissing and suckling each of her diamond hard nips, up her chest, up her neck, over her chin, and then to her lips as I deepen our kiss and lick my way inside, her lips parted in open invitation.

Her eyes are closed as her lips and tongue mingle with mine, getting a good taste of herself on my own lips and tongue, and if anything, she only gets _more_ turned on by it, and my dick reminds me that I'm forgetting about him. _Don't worry, you'll get your turn,_ I tell it and run my hands up and down her body before crawling them slowly underneath her body and taking a firm hold of her ass. I squeeze those firm mounds, and she moans into my mouth and my dick gets harder.

I gotta take this to the bedroom. _Now_. No way in hell am I taking her here on the couch. Not for our first time together. I want to be able to spread out and make us more comfortable, make it _special_ , and my bedroom...Well, that's where _all_ the magic happens. Or, so I've been told. I pull her ass up off the couch and begin to stand. She wraps her arms around my neck, keeping our lips and tongues connected like our very lives depend on it, and her legs wrap around my hips. My dick pokes her in the ass, letting her know what's about to happen, and I carry her into the bedroom, kneeling on my king size bed, and crawl my way up on my knees until I have her in the middle, and then lay her down and line my throbbing dick up with her entrance.

I'll need a condom before we can get started, but as I move to grab one from the nightstand drawer, she doesn't let me go. She keeps her legs wrapped around me and mutters against my lips, "No. Don't. I'm on the pill...I want to feel _you_ ," and I can't argue with that, not with how she sounds and with that look in her eyes. Of course, I pause for a second, watching her intently. I've never had unprotected sex in my life. _Never._ Not with any woman, but I can't deny that I want to with _her._ Finally, I nod and rock my hips back and slowly thrust forward. My dick leaks precome over the bed, her thighs, her pussy, her thatch of dark curls, and I tease her a couple more times, just rubbing my dick back and forth over her clit, preparing her, before I slowly slide into her, letting her feel _me_ inside of her, and my eyes roll all the way back into my head at the indescribable sensation of it. I swear they do a total one eighty, until I'm _sure_ I can see my brain. Fuck have mercy! We both moan as I slide into her, and it's not as wild as it was earlier, it's more tame, more pleasure-filled, not teasing.

I'm _way_ past teasing at this point. And, feeling her wet inner walls wrap around me without a condom separating us? It's heaven, true, unadulterated _heaven._ I wouldn't be surprised if I saw unicorns or fairies or any of that shit at this point. I've _never_ felt like this before. Ever. And, I swear I'm definitely going to do whatever I have to, to enjoy _this_ feeling with her every damn day for the rest of our lives. Because I'm claiming her for my own. She's mine now. _All mine._

And, I'm hers and _only_ hers from now on. _Completely_. _Totally_.

Her lips and tongue continue to caress mine, and her soft lips and probing tongue bring me back to reality, and I roll my hips, pulling out of her slowly until only my head is inside her, and then I slide into her again. Her moan is just as soft, reverent this time, and I keep the pace slow and steady, and then as the feeling inside me grows, the come building in my balls, Padmé's moans and groans in my ear that grow steadily louder and louder, the sound of our flesh slapping together wetly, connecting over and over again, uniting our bodies as one, and the pleasure that builds, and builds, and builds…and suddenly, shoots out of me…

I can't help the masculine roar that rips from me, as pleasure so intense washes over me, it's a wonder I don't black out.

It's pure heaven, and I come into Padmé's tight pussy in multiple powerful spurts of seed, as I feel her muscles contract rhythmically, wringing every single drop out of me that she can. Her pussy is like a warm, wet glove that was made just for _me_ , for _my dick_ alone, and I'm certain now that it was. I drop my head on the pillow next to her ear, breathing in hard. I can feel her hard nipples rubbing against my chest, her ankles still firmly locked over my ass. I'm supporting my weight on my forearms and knees so as not to crush her, but our bodies are flush from shoulder to groin. And, I've never felt closer to anyone than I do her in this moment. And, it's not just the sex, no. It's the _emotions_ behind it. That's what makes this…makes _her_ …different, _special_. We're both sweating, our hearts are racing, our chests rising and falling in perfect sync after the glorious union we just shared...And, yep, I'm certain now more than ever.

Padmé is the perfect woman for me- the _only_ woman for me.

And, I'm going to make sure she _knows_ it from this day forward.

Lifting my head slowly, I tangle my fingers in her hair that's flung across my pillows, and I lean down and gently rub our noses together. I can't stop the mile-wide smile I feel on my lips as I gaze upon her beautiful face. Her eyes are wet and sparkling with unshed tears, as she stares up at me, and I lean down and gently kiss her eyelids closed, then kiss her forehead, brush a whisper of a kiss on the tip of her nose, before teasing her lips open and sharing gentle open mouth kisses, one after the other, as we slowly come down from our shared high, our bodies still intimately joined.

Finally, I pull back from her lips, and her eyes flutter open. "Wow," I whisper in a husky timbre, "That was the most incredible feeling I've ever felt in my life. I swear, I think I glimpsed heaven. Are you sure you're not an angel?"

She smiles softly, her eyes warm and gooey, like melted chocolate almost, and she wraps her arms tighter around my neck, her fingers threading through the damp curls on the back of my head, making _me_ shiver, "You're sweet," is all she says before she pulls my head down to her own and locks our lips together in a slow, but no less searing, kiss, and I swear my dick instantly starts to harden inside her again, something else that's never happened to me before.

Lifting my right hand, I slide it over her damp skin and between our joined bodies, and I expertly begin to rub slow circles over her still swollen clit with my long fingers, and I can feel her inner walls growing wet again. I take control of our kiss, deepening it, as I begin to move my hips in a gentle circle, rolling my hardening dick deep inside her, rubbing her walls, teasing her, and she gasps into my mouth, and I release our kiss, and lick my way across her jaw to her ear where I nip her earlobe before suckling it with my mouth. She shivers beneath me, and that's when I tell her. When I let her know the truth, because she needs to understand what's just happened here.

"You're _mine_ now, Padmé. _All_ mine and _only_ mine _._ You're _my_ woman, my _Angel._ And, I am never, ever letting you go."

She looks at me, absorbing my whispered words, before she nods in acceptance, "And, you're _mine,_ Anakin. _Only_ mine. Forever. And, I am never, ever letting _you_ go, either. Got it?" She arches a delicate eyebrow at me in question.

Oh, I got it alright, and I have absolutely no problems with that at all.

Not a one.

Smiling slowly, wolfishly down at my woman, I reply, "Sounds perfect to me, Angel." She flashes me a brilliant smile, and I think my heart skips a beat at the sight. "Good. Now, what was it I said about coming over and over again?" As she laughs softly, I begin to move inside her once more. Actions, of course, speak louder than words, and…

For the rest of the night, our bodies do _all_ the talking.

Just as I knew they would.


	6. Chapter 6

**Bachelorette Party: Chapter 6**

* * *

 ** _Padmé Naberrie_**

The earliest purplish-blue rays of predawn are peeking through the blinds, as I languidly stretch, my body heavy and replete, _satisfied_ in a way I'd never imagined I could be. This amazing feeling is _definitely_ something I haven't felt before. Not even with Rush.

I can't even _count_ how many times I came last night, and I mean _came_ , in a way and in a manner I'd never even realized was possible. I'm actually _sore_ at the juncture between my thighs, and I've never been sore after having sex…well, except when I lost my virginity, but that doesn't really count. I mean _all_ women feel pain when they lose their virginity. No, this is entirely different. I realize now I never really had _sex_ before last night.

The men I've been with before...which number only two, by the way, clearly didn't know what they were doing, and I didn't know just how good it could be...how great- no _…incredible,_ it could feel.

Of course, I've also never experienced sex without the condom before last night either, and I must say the difference in sensation is practically _indescribable._

Anakin managed to make me feel more than I've ever felt before, and he makes me feel like I can do just about _anything_ in the bedroom with him without feeling ashamed or embarrassed. I admit I'm a fan of trashy romance novels and have wanted to try out sexual positions that I never even knew _existed_ before reading them, and I feel I can do most of those with Anakin. He wouldn't be embarrassed about it, and I know he'd be up to trying them with me. Rush never would. We just had plain old sex, and there was nothing special or great about it. Trust me. Only thing memorable about it was how little _I_ enjoyed it.

Nothing compared to the way intimacy felt with Anakin. The sexy hunk of a man lying next to me in his huge king sized bed, which is amazingly comfortable, I might add. A man who's no longer a _stranger_ to me, at least physically speaking. I roll over, facing him, sliding my arm up under the pillow, and I can't help staring at his perfection, the hard, sculpted six pack abs, the short blond chest hair that covers his upper torso that I want to twirl my fingers in, the well-defined pectorals that have me wanting to trace their definition with my tongue. His long muscular arms that carried me last night into this room like I was nothing heavier than a sack of rice, the long tapered fingers that were both strong and soft as they caressed my skin, and I'll admit, he made me feel even more like the woman I've always wanted to be, _longed_ and _yearned_ to be, but had never quite felt I was.

Until last night.

And he's nothing but raw masculinity. A very _virile,_ masculine man that can be the poster boy- _man,_ yeah, poster _man_ , for men all around the world. Especially with _his_ body...that perfectly cut V with his blond happy trail of curls that cuts a pathway from his navel under the sheet that covers up the lower half of his body, and I stare up at his face, so relaxed in sleep, and see his ice blue eyes closed, and listen to the cute soft little snore escaping his slightly parted pink lips.

An actual living, breathing, walking, talking _Adonis._ That's what Anakin is.

And, I almost can't believe my great fortune in meeting him.

As I continue to watch, I'm glad to see he's still sleeping. He should be after what we did last night. It's a very good thing he's as well toned and strong as he _is_ considering the exertion he expended last night in our bedroom sexcapade. I wouldn't call last night a romantic evening of _lovemaking._ Not exactly. It was much more _carnal_ in nature, despite our joint admission to feeling _more_ than just lust for each other. Last night was passion unleashed, untamed. Raw, visceral, _aggressive_ hunger, wild in its intensity, overpowering in its scope, sweeping us both along in the undertow of lust that could only be fulfilled, satisfied by the other. It's a night I don't think either of us will ever forget. I know _I_ won't.

I gently lean over and lightly pull the sheet towards me, ever so slowly, exposing the lower half of his body to my gaze. He doesn't move. _Phew_ , I got away with it, and my eyes sweep lower, enjoying the finest display of manhood I've ever seen with my own two eyes. Not that I've seen that many, of course…but his is undeniably perfect in both size and shape. Tilting my head, a soft smile sweeps my lips as I contemplate his nether region.

His dick is now all I see, and my mouth waters at the sight. Framed by a nest of blond curls, again I say, it's _perfect_ , and I just want to kiss, lick, suck, and feel him all the way in the back of my throat...I want him to come into my mouth so I can swallow every last drop of his seed.

The fact that I _desire_ to do so is a first for me. I've never wanted to do that before, not to any man. In fact, I've always thought it would be rather gross to do so, but with _him?_ I want to do everything. And, I don't think he'll mind. I sit up and gently slide down the bed, careful not to wake him. Getting on my hands and knees, I crawl like a feline between his long muscular legs dusted in blond hair from ankle to upper thighs, which are spread wide enough for me to not have to move them, and my breath hitches staring down at his dick which is now mere inches from my face.

My eyebrows arch in surprise. I think his dick knows this too, because it twitches and perks right up, almost like it _knows_ what I'm about to do and heartily approves. "Like what you see?" The amused question reaches my ears.

I freeze at his husky, deep baritone voice as it washes over me. _Busted_ , is all I can think. But, I'm not going to feel ashamed or embarrassed at what I am about to do to him. Why should I be? After all, _he_ was parked between _my_ legs most of last night, both with his dick plunged deep inside me or conversely with his face buried in my pussy, and he ate me out over and over and over again. _Quite_ thoroughly, I might add. So, physically, I've got no secrets anymore from this man. Literally. Now, it's _my_ turn. I want a taste of _him_.

Fair is fair, right?

"I do," I purr in satisfaction, and then I wrap a dainty hand around his quickly growing length and begin to pump his thick, hard-as-a-rock dick that's hot and throbbing in my hand already, as I bend down and tentatively stick my tongue out to lick the pinkish-purple mushroomed head. He suddenly jerks, his hips involuntarily thrusting upward at the touch of my mouth on him.

He bites his tongue, or it sounds that way, when he throws his head back on the pillow, squeezes his eyes shut, and mutters, " _Ungh!_ " through gritted teeth. I take that as a sign of approval and lick it again. When he moans, louder, I feel encouraged, and I pause to drop a kiss on the tip of his head before I start licking it up and down and trace the veins on the underside of his dick with my tongue all the way down to the curly blond hair at the base, where I take a moment to rub my nose and face in that glorious nest of untamed curls, breathing in deeply his musky masculine scent, memorizing it. He smells _wonderful._ I smile softly as his husky moans continue to reach my ears in an ever increasing tempo. He opens his thighs wider for me, a silent encouragement to continue my _ministrations_ , which I will do gladly. Opening my eyes, I glance down at his balls, as they appear before my face. They're drawn up tight against his body. Smirking, I tip my head down lower and lap at his sack gently with my tongue. At his sharp inhalation of breath, I get bolder, and I draw one of his balls in my mouth, rolling my tongue wetly around and around, bathing it thoroughly in my saliva, and his sudden gasp of _'Ahhh,'_ indicates I must be doing _something_ right here, so I continue my exploration by sucking vigorously – but ever so _gently_ – on his most sensitive flesh. Throwing his head to the side on the pillow, his chest is rising and falling rapidly, his belly muscles clenching, and he grits out, _'Oh, damn! So fucking good, Angel. Ungh! Don't stop. Pleassse, don't stop!'_

He needn't worry. I have no intention of stopping. Despite my previous reticence at performing this act on other men, I now find I _quite_ enjoy this, especially when he begs and pleads with me to continue. I can't help the swell of very feminine, very victorious _euphoria_ that surges within my breast at his wanton begging. I suddenly feel _empowered_ in the most provocative and carnalistic way I've ever felt in my life. Honestly, it's almost intoxicating.

I love it.

After treating his other testicle to the same loving care, I lick my way slowly back up his dick, pulling away as I reach the head. Gazing headlong down at his swollen, throbbing shaft, my mouth hovering _just_ above it, I don't think I can fit him all the way inside my mouth. He's big, like _really_ big and really well hung, too. I can totally see _why_ he's so confident in his body. With a body like his...how could he not be? It's flawless.

 _He's_ exemplary, the quintessential male.

I lick the pearly bead of precome that appears on the tip suddenly. It tastes like salt, sex, and _Anakin_. Different, but not entirely unpleasant. I pause and let my eyes roam up his body and up to his own blue orbs, and they're a dark, stormy, midnight blue, the irises seeming to swirl with a desire so deep, so _hungry_ that I shudder and quickly avert my gaze back to his swollen dick and begin to put my sucking skills to the test.

Yeah, this is a first for me...but I _don't_ want that to show. I know he's _far_ more experienced at all things sexual than I am, but I don't want _my_ inexperience to restrict _his_ pleasure in any way. So, I suck just the head of his dick into my mouth, wrapping my lips firmly around him, giving his head several firm pulls with my mouth, which elicits a garbled soft wail from his lips, and so, I suck a little bit more in, and then a little bit more, and then retract some, sliding his shaft along my warm, wet tongue, and then, little by little, I suck more and more of his length into my mouth and lather the underside of his dick with my tongue, twirling my tongue around to coat him in my saliva.

 _"Oh, Fuck, Padmé! Keep going, Baby!"_

 _Yeah me!_ I can't help thinking to myself with extreme pleasure, even though _this_ isn't about me; it's about _him._ I think I'm doing it right, because he's moaning and shivering underneath me, his skin covered in goosebumps, and again, I've never felt more powerful in my life. To know I've got this big muscular man f _ully_ under my control? It's empowering beyond belief. And, it only urges me on more and more, until I nearly gag as his head hits the back of my throat. _Oh,_ _shit!_ The last thing I want right now is to vomit all over him because of a simple gag reflex. "Breathe through your nose," he instructs me softly, running his hands through my long curly hair. I do as he says and breathe through my nose, and it gets easier. "Now, hollow out your cheeks, pulling back slowly, and take your time. I'm in no rush, Frankly, I'm enjoying the show from up here, and I know I'm big."

 _Big_ being a huge ass understatement, but I'm going to suck him all the way into my mouth and to the back of my throat before I _let_ him come. I do exactly as he told me, though I push away the sudden annoying thought of just _how_ many blowjobs he's received in the past for him to know all this and focus back on my task at hand. Thankfully, it gets easier and a few minutes later, I'm smiling in triumph around his dick as best I can, as I rub my nose in the curls at the base of his pelvis.

He smiles wolfishly down at me, bucking his hips. " _Fuck,_ Padmé. I've never seen _anything_ hotter than your pretty pink lips wrapped around my dick, my dick in your mouth...and you _smiling_ about it."

I pull back and suck him some more. He bucks his hips again, and then I can feel his strength giving way to the pending orgasm. I suck faster, harder, and pump my hand up and down his dick, twisting it with each surge upward of my fist. It's slick with his precome and my saliva, and then he's suddenly warning me he's about to come, and I surprise him further by taking him deeper down my throat and swallowing him down when he explodes in jet after powerful jet of his essence. And, I am proud to say I drink him dry.

Every. Last. Drop.

" _Fuck,"_ he pants, sweat beading down his body, his chest heaving, his limbs boneless from the intense pleasure I've just given him. I crawl up his body like it's a jungle gym, until we're face to face, my knees and arms braced on either side of his torso, and our lips lock onto one another's like magnets, his tongue surging into my mouth and mating with mine, "I've never tasted better."

It's erotic, him tasting himself on my tongue and lips. I've never been more turned on than in this moment, and he must feel it. Especially when he dips his hand down between my thighs and slides two fingers inside of me, only to pull them out and hold them next to my face.

My wetness literally _coats_ his fingertips, and I surprise him again by sucking them into my mouth and tasting myself there. "You're killing me, Angel," he pants and then grabs my shoulders and effortlessly spins me around so my ass is hanging in the air above his chest, my legs are on either side of his arms, my arms hold me up between his legs, and he sits up and licks his way around my drenched folds, yep _drenched_. I moan at the sheer pleasure of his magical tongue and lips, and I fist the sheet between my hands. I remember his tongue licking its way up and down my body all of last night, licking around my clit, my pussy, and he's doing it again.

Exploring it.

Teasing it.

Tasting it.

 _Claiming_ it.

I can't stop moaning every time he laps up my drenched lower lips that only get wetter by the second, and then he trails his tongue over my throbbing clit, flicking it with rapid fire strokes, and a loud groan tears out of me, as my face falls into the mattress. My fists clench the sheets tighter. He smirks against my pussy, and buries his entire _face_ inside of my crotch.

His big hands cup my firm ass, and he squeezes my cheeks, kneads them expertly in his palms, and he pushes me all the way down onto the bed and flips me over, spreads my legs wide and buries his face back between my thighs. He inhales the scent of my arousal deeply, his blue eyes falling closed and a satisfied smile crossing his lips. "I've _never_ smelled anything sweeter than you," he whispers on a groan, then he tastes me again, and my eyes roll to the back of my head to the point of where I think they may become stuck.

I can't even hear anything over my loud moaning and his grunts of approval as he tortures me with his tongue, teeth, and lips and reaches up and begins to rub circles over my clit with his thumb, and I can feel the orgasm in me growing. He must feel it too, because his eyes travel up to mine, and they're an even stormier midnight blue than before.

"Do it, _come_ for me, Angel." He demands, in a low, husky timbre, and I do, my breath leaving me in a _whoosh_ , my gut clenching, thighs shaking, and toes curling as a pleasure _so_ intense tears through me, and I come directly into his waiting mouth. As the aftershocks pulse through my body, I can feel his tongue lapping at my folds, as he literally _slurps_ my wetness, drinking my own essence as I drank his.

I can get used to this.

I can get used to _him_.

Fact of the matter is that my dreams really don't compare to _this._ This knocked my fantasies out of the damn ballpark, and I _know_ it's because it's _him_.

While I admit our romp this night wasn't what you could call true lovemaking, I also know that what we have isn't _just_ lust. Isn't _just_ physical attraction or how _very_ good he is in bed. No, it's really not. Rather, it's the _emotions_ behind it, which drives the physical. Even though I don't know much about him yet, I still feel like I've known him all my life.

Is that crazy?

Some would say yes, definitely, but I _know_ that's not just the sex talking.

But, right now, I don't even have the strength to work through my thoughts, because his presence...his _body_ has a way of commanding _all_ of my attention. And, my own passion-darkened eyes stalk him as he crawls his way up _my_ body now, like a predator, like a hawk swooping down on its prey.

And _I'm_ the prey.

I shudder as he stops moving over my body, pausing, lowering his head to pepper kisses on my round breasts, my rock-hard nipples. They're as hard as diamonds, and he sucks on them both long and _hard_ , one at a time, before biting down on each tumescent tip. My hips jump up off the bed and rub my curly muff against his belly, the solidness of his body reminding me of just _who_ I'm dealing with here.

A man like no other.

A man who takes care of his body and is in _full_ control of it.

A man who knows how to pleasure me like he has a blueprint of my body and knows _all_ of the inner workings...what turns me on, what drives me crazy, and what makes the woman I've always hidden inside me, come out.

Palo never treated me this way. Neither did Rush.

I just lay there and let them do their thing and sometimes even had to fake an orgasm. Actually, more times than not, if I'm honest, that's what I had to do. I had to close my eyes and picture someone _else_ fucking me, because that's _all_ it ever was to _them._

Fucking.

Not sex.

Certainly not lovemaking.

Not pleasure.

Not about me.

It was always about _them_ taking what _they_ needed and doing absolutely nothing to satisfy _my_ wants and desires in the process. The old proverbial _'Wham, bam, 'Thank you, Ma'am,'_ roll over, go to sleep, snoring, and leaving _me_ angry, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, and having to resort to my _own_ hand to get some relief. So not fair.

But, Anakin doesn't put himself first. He puts _me_ first and satisfies _me_ before finding the relief his _own_ body craves.

I know deep in my soul that Anakin is the man I've been looking for all my life without even knowing it. _He's_ the man that's been my dream man, the man in my fantasies since before we even met. For years, I've dreamt of him, not realizing it was _him._

He's the man that I'm destined to be with.

I can feel it deep in my bones. And despite us not really knowing each other yet, I know he's the other half of my heart. The other half of my _soul_.

I don't think I'll ever be able to live without him.

"Hey, Angel," he whispers, crawling the rest of the way up my body and giving me a kiss so sweet and passionate that I can feel butterflies fluttering in my belly and my toes curling as my heart races in my chest, like I've just run ten miles. His big body is lying on top of me, and his muscular forearms hold up his weight on either side of my head. His lips are soft and demanding on mine, controlling the kiss, and his tongue sneaks out and licks my lower lips.

I part my lips and poke my tongue out to meet his, and I can taste myself on his tongue and lips. He groans into my mouth and grinds his hips against mine, letting me feel his prominent erection pressing against my flat belly. I raise my lower body up to meet his and grind my own hips against his. "What are you waiting for?" I whisper back seductively, watching in pleasure as his eyes visibly darken again, and he takes my lips harder and deeper. He pumps his hips against my groin, teasing my clit by bumping the head of his dick against it several times, sending bolts of pure pleasure coursing through me, then he pulls back and sinks forcefully inside of me, sheathing himself fully in my wetness, and we both moan as he stretches me, filling me up until all I feel is _him_ inside of _me_.

I've never felt better. I let him know that by thrusting my hips up against his to let him know I'm ready for whatever he has in store for me. He doesn't make me wait, and he doesn't disappoint. He pumps his hips deliciously slow at first, pulling himself almost all the way out and slowly filling me back up again, keeping his mouth locked on mine.

Teasing me.

Giving me a taste of what's to come. No pun intended.

And as he does this, he maps my lips with his and takes pulls of my tongue before kissing his way down my cheek, my jaw, to my neck. He reaches down and lifts one of my legs over his forearm and then hoists it up onto his shoulder, changing the angle and depth of penetration and driving himself even further into me.

Filling me up even more.

He kisses my neck, traces my arteries with his tongue, and gently bites into my neck to leave what I know will be a love mark.

He's marking me as _his_ , and little does he know, I already _belong_ to him. Like _he_ already belongs to _me._

It's only fitting that I bear his mark for all to see. And by the time we're done later this morning, he'll be bearing a similar mark on his own neck. A neck I'm really looking forward to getting a bite of. Literally.

I moan as he surges his hips faster into me, and then lifts my other leg over his other arm and up onto his other shoulder, angling my hips to fully receive his body. And, then the fun truly begins.

He braces his knees on either side of my hips, and then he's back to kissing my lips and claiming them with his own at the same time he's accelerating his pace and driving himself deeper into me than I ever thought he could go. So deep that I think he may very well become a part of me.

Permanently.

Forever.

My moaning, his grunting, and the _loud_ rhythmic slapping of our hips connecting, his balls swaying and smacking against my ass with an almost silent _thump, thump_ , as he pummels me into the mattress, are the only sounds I hear, and I swear I've never heard anything sound more beautiful.

I've never seen a man sexier than Anakin, either. His sweaty, tanned skin, his muscular body, big and broad at the shoulders and narrowing down to lean hips and that V that I've never seen on a man except for the drawings on the covers of those romance novels.

Truthfully, he's like a romance novel come to life, because I never knew love could feel like _this._ I never even knew what love was like until now.

Until he gave me a lap dance at my party and forever claimed me as his.

His grunts become more rapid, his muscles bunch up, and his kiss grows more demanding as I feel his whole body tense up above me, and my body joins his as we come simultaneously in an explosion of bliss together, and his seed spills deep inside me, coating my womanhood in warm, sticky pleasure. A thin sheen of sweat covers the both of us, and our breaths become joined. His lips and tongue stay with mine, his dick stays lodged deep inside of me, and we ride out our orgasms together until we've got nothing left to give.

"Fuck, Angel."

That about sums it up alright, and I smile against his lips, letting my hands roam over the sculpted muscles of his back, my legs sliding off his shoulders as I plant my feet on the mattress, my thighs cradling his hips, and I take a moment to memorize his touch and feel into my memory.

As if I could ever forget.

My hands trail down his back to the one part of his body that I got _quite_ familiar with the night we first met. His taut ass. I squeeze the firm cheeks in my hands and smile as he groans and bucks his hips against mine, driving his dick deep into me once more. "Keep touching me," he orders, and I do with pleasure.

I want to be able to memorize every inch of his perfect body like he has mine over the course of the night, and I let him know this by pushing against his chest. He pulls his softening dick out of me and flops over to lie on his back, head back resting on the pillows.

Now he's at _my_ mercy, letting me have my way with _him_ , and God, he's like a magnificent treasure trove of sensual gold to the senses. So much so, I don't even know where to _start._

"Touch me, Padmé." He begs. "Rub me up. _Feel_ me. Explore my body like I explored yours."

My body shivers, flashes of what we did last night, his hands, tongue, lips, and mouth exploring every single nook and cranny of my body, has my sex throbbing in need again. Mercy, I've never been so sex craven before I met him.

Even when we first met, and when I was still engaged, I wanted to have sex with him. To let him fuck me, but that's something he refused to do. I sensed that he wanted me but that he was a man of principles and didn't pursue it, because he knew I was engaged. Then, last night, with the barrier of my engagement now gone, he made me feel emotions that I've _never_ felt before, and I realized that I wasn't wrong about my decision, and again, it's not just the sex. No, it's the emotions, the connection, the deep sense of _finally_ meeting the one to whom you belong.

He _is_ the man for me.

Losing his patience, he grabs my hands and guides them to where he wants them. On his chest, he rubs my hands up and down his pectoral muscles, letting me feel his sculpted flesh. His skin is hot under my palms, the muscles hard, unyielding. Short blond chest hair feels rough against my hands, tickling my palms, and I tilt my breasts to rub his chest with my own turgid nipples, craving the sublime feeling of our flesh sliding against each other's.

He lets my hands go, and I take the reins. I explore his body like he did mine. Feeling the firm masculine muscles under my palms, the peaks and valleys of his abdomen, the curly hair on his legs and arms. I roll him over, or rather, ask him to roll over, and he does, and I explore his back, his taut ass, his calves, and every other part of him to ingrain his beautiful body into my brain.

I want to know _every_ part of him.

I want him to know _every_ part of me.

I want us to be comfortable together, and that's _exactly_ what he's doing by letting me take my time and explore his body as thoroughly as I let him do to my own last night.

"Fuck," he moans, as I massage his neck, shoulders, and back. "Keep doing that, it feels _so_ good." I keep doing what I'm doing, and he's purring like a cat. Feeling the rippling muscles on his back, the knots that I'm kneading out, and the kinks that I'm working out only turn me on. I continue to massage his body, moving down to give him a _most_ exquisite butt rub, from the low growls of utter satisfaction I hear hissing from between his lips, down his thighs, to his calves, and then finally, his feet, working my fingers expertly against the pads of his heels and toes, and his groans only get louder, before he mutters, "Damn, Angel…Where the fuck did you learn how to _do_ that?"

"My grandmother. She was a licensed massage therapist at a ritzy spa in her younger days, and she taught me and my sister everything she knows," I tell him smugly, pleased that he appreciates so thoroughly my skills. _Thank you, Grandma,_ I whisper silently to myself.

When I'm done with the massage, I have him roll back over, and his dick is stiff, hard, turgid, standing proud and precome's leaking at the tip, and he reaches down to stroke himself. He doesn't look embarrassed or guilty.

Nope. He looks delighted, _eager._

He shrugs, innocently, giving me a wink. "See what you do to me?" I nod and decide to help him out. Because I'm ready, too. My core is begging for his touch, and his dick is begging for mine.

I push myself up onto my knees and crawl up his body, moving to kneel on either side of his hips, his swollen dick brushing against my dripping folds. His eyes dilate, knowing what I'm about to do. I wink at him and hear him growl possessively as I reach down and wrap a hand around his aching flesh and guide it inside of me, as I sink down onto him.

" _Oh_!" I moan as I sink all the way down onto him and sit on his pelvis. "Feels _so_ good."

He reaches down with his large hands and squeezes my ass, holding me in his hands but does nothing but support my weight. " _You_ feel so good." He squeezes my cheeks again in emphasis, and I've never felt as feminine as I do when I'm with him.

He's so much bigger than me and could easily overpower me and take what he wants, but he doesn't. He's letting _me_ run the show, control how much of him I take and how fast or slow I go.

 _I love you,_ is on the tip of my tongue, but I keep it back. It seems too rushed, too perfect, and I don't want to fall head over heels for him too fast and have everything fall apart and be heartbroken at the end.

I don't think he'd do that to me, but I still don't really _know_ him. That's something we'll have to rectify, because he's a man that I can see myself spending the rest of my life with, and I want to make _sure_ that he's the guy that I think he is before realizing when it's too late that he isn't.

"You okay, up there?" his deep husky baritone breaks into my thoughts.

I nod down at him, my hands flat on his chest, and I lift off of him, feeling his delicious length pull out of me, only for me to ease back down and welcome him back inside and stretch me like I've never been stretched before.

We find our pace, his hands still on my ass, and he begins to thrust his hips up off the bed and spear into me as I lower myself down towards him. We both moan, the sound of our flesh smacking together echoes in the room, and before long, we're coming in bliss and riding out our orgasms until we've got nothing left to give.

I collapse onto his chest, exhausted. We're both sweating and stained in come from our night in his bed, and the smell of our erotic union permeates the air around us, so distinctly _us._ It's the most incredible scent I've ever smelled.

Before I know it, my eyelids grow heavy, and I fall asleep like this, on his chest, the rhythm of his breathing soothing me, his dick still buried inside my warmth filling me, and him brushing my hair gently with his hand.

* * *

I wake up when the sunlight streaming through the window blind burns my eyelids. It's daytime, that much is obvious, but discombobulated for a sec, it takes me a moment to remember _exactly_ where I am. Oh yeah.

Anakin's apartment.

I smile looking over my shoulder, only to find that I'm alone in his bed. I wrack my brain for the last memories I have of being with him and blush heatedly when I remember riding him to oblivion. And, falling asleep contentedly draped over him like a warm blanket.

I never did that before, but I never felt more alive or sure of myself than I did riding his dick. He was perfect, letting me run the show and controlling the speed, the depth of penetration, the movements of my hips over him, around him. It wasn't until towards the end when I could feel his muscles tensing under my palms that he couldn't hold back anymore and started to spear up into me, meeting me half way.

He drove me wild. Honestly, he drove me nearly feral the whole time. _All_ of last night. I couldn't get enough of him, and I don't think I ever will.

I roll out of his big, comfortable bed, stepping barefoot and naked across the room and into the en suite master bathroom. It's nice in here, just like the rest of his apartment is, and I go through the drawers under the sink and find a new toothbrush that's still in a pack. I tear it open, turn on the water, wet it, and grab his toothpaste and squirt some on and begin to brush my teeth.

When I'm done, I go to the bathroom, wash my hands first, then my face and dry both my hands and my face on a towel that's hanging up on the towel rack. I grab his brush off the counter and quickly brush out my sex-mussed hair, detangling it. Feeling somewhat more presentable, I pad out of the bathroom and back across the room to open the bedroom door. I hear music coming from the room just down the hall and walk that way.

Peeking in the room, I find Anakin's inside. It's his personal home gym apparently, and surprisingly, one whole _wall_ is a giant, floor-to-ceiling mirror. Without having to be told, I know _exactly_ what he uses it for, and as if I needed proof of that, I see him practicing his dance moves. He's moving rhythmically, sultrily swaying his hips, doing moves that I don't think even _I_ can do, and I'm _way_ smaller than he is.

But, the man can _move._ No doubt about it. He's athletic for sure, but graceful. Like he's a conduit for the music to flow through him. I watch him unabashedly, unnoticed for several long moments, growing more impressed – and more _aroused_ – by his skills with each twirl, grind, and squat he makes. I can't help drinking in with my eyes every little nuance, the way his muscles ripple across his back under his golden skin, how his thigh and calf muscles bunch and release with his steps, the way his dick and his sack bounce, bob, and sway with his every movement. God, from head to toe, he is simply _divine._ Suddenly, he sees me in the doorway watching him, and he smirks when his eyes lock with mine in the mirror. He raises a hand and silently urges me to join him. I blush but can't say no to him. I step into the room and walk towards him, completely unashamed of my nudity. Another first for me. I was always embarrassed to be seen naked by either Rush or Palo. But, with Anakin, I'm not.

And neither is he, apparently, because he's j _ust_ as naked as I am, and his dick hardens into a semi as I reach his side and take his hand in mine. Obviously, he approves wholeheartedly at our state of undress. His fingers interlace with mine, and our hands lock together. He gives my hand a tug and pulls me to him, and I twist and land with my ass pressed back against his muscular thighs and feel like my back just crashed into a brick wall with his hard abs and chest being all chiseled muscle like they are.

An _"oof,"_ even leaves my mouth unexpectedly, and he smirks even more at my surprise. Then he's letting my hand go and sliding his fingers up my forearms to my elbows where he then transfers his hands to my tiny indented waist as he guides me in a dance that's something couples do on the dance floor of a nightclub.

Our hips swaying to the music, his semi hard dick poking against my low back, as we bump and grind our flesh together.

Rush didn't like dancing, so I've never done this before personally, but I've seen couples do it in clubs and always wanted to be able to feel free and comfortable enough in my skin to be like them.

"Let the beat flow through you," his soft voice tickles my ear, his hot breath caressing the shell of my ear.

He teaches me some of his dance moves, his hands not letting go of my skin, and I feel like his hands are branding me with his touch. He's left an indelible mark on me already, and I know I'll _never_ be the same.

I like who I am when I'm with him, and he's making me feel more alive than I ever have before.

"Alexa, stop." He calls out to his _Amazon Echo,_ and the music stops instantly. "I don't know about you, but I could use a shower."

I nod in agreement. I _was_ going to take one when I was in there a few minutes ago, but...I wanted to see what he was doing first. Okay, and maybe I just wanted to take a shower _with_ him.

But, I won't admit that out loud. "I could, too." He nods at my agreement, and guides me back to his room, back into the en suite and opens the glass door and starts the shower, one of his hands always staying on me, his touch _burning_ me.

He checks the water temperature, and when he's satisfied, he steps in under the nozzle and pulls me inside with him. He closes the glass partition behind us, and I shudder when his hot lips straightaway land on the spot on my neck where he marked me earlier this morning. "I _love_ seeing you marked as _mine_ ," he growls against my skin.

I shudder again, and I don't think I've _ever_ shuddered before with a man. He just makes me feel things I've never felt before, and I don't know what to do with all of these roiling emotions inside me.

"I love you, Padmé," his voice is soft, reverent and _filled_ with emotion. I freeze upon hearing his words, and I don't know what to do. "I'm sorry..." his mouth leaves my neck, his body giving me distance. "It's _way_ too soon for that, I know...I just...I _never_ felt this way about a woman before and I- I just wanted you to know how I feel."

I turn around to find him looking down at his feet, his hand reaching behind him to scratch his neck. He's even blushing. My heart seizes, and I step closer to him and press my body against his. The warm water sprays my back. "I love you, too," I admit, smiling up at him, letting my emotions shine forth from my eyes.

His eyes open wide and lock onto mine. "Y-you do?" He stutters, his arms wrapping around my body to pull me tighter against him.

I wrap my hands around the back of his neck and pull his face closer to mine. "I do. If I didn't feel a genuine connection between us, then I wouldn't have left my fiancé." I kiss him, soft and sweet. "But, I knew it from the second I saw you that there was _something_ between us, and I've never felt this way before either." I kiss him again, and again, again. "I didn't know what love truly was until now."

We both know we're moving too quick, we admitted as much, but we also have really strong feelings for one another, feelings that neither of us can deny, and I'm glad that his feelings for me are _just_ as strong as mine are for him. I know we have hurdles we'll have to jump...but I'm sure that together, we can jump those hurdles and have room to spare.

Love isn't easy. It takes a _lot_ of work and compromise. I know that from my time with Rush, and I have a feeling that being with Anakin-

My thoughts float away as once again, Anakin's body pulls me out of my head. His lips on mine, our tongues tangling, his hands on my ass, his dick leaking precome on my belly, and in a simple move, he lifts me up into his arms and steps forward until my back hits the shower wall, and his body holds me prisoner against it.

"Fuck," he groans into my mouth and lifts me up just a bit more and then lowers me onto his now rock hard dick. I moan as he slides into me, stretching me, filling me yet again. "You're so tight, and wet, and _perfect_. Like you were made just for me, Angel."

All I can do is moan in agreement, and my moans grow in volume, as he begins to fuck me against his shower wall. There's _nothing_ sweet about this. It's carnal, primal, passionate, and unlike anything else I've ever experienced before. Including last night.

His tongue surges into my mouth and wraps itself around mine demandingly while his soft lips press into mine- _hard_. So hard that I'm sure they'll be bruised by the time we're done. At the same time, he's pounding himself into my small body like he's trying to get us to become one.

He grunts every time he surges into me. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and hold onto him tight as he continues to fuck me like I've truly never been fucked before- and then we're both on the edge of that glorious cliff, and we both fall over the precipice, and I scream in intense pleasure as he explodes into me in multiple eruptions of his essence, filling me up with his blistering hot seed.

We're panting now, our hearts racing, breaths ragged. And I've never felt better. "Wow," I pant, still struggling to replenish my lungs with the air they need, tilting my head back against the tiled wall behind me.

He chuckles into my neck, making love to it until we finally calm down enough for him to pull out of me and let me go, holding me close as my body slides wetly against his own, my feet finally finding purchase on the floor by the drain. "Let's take our shower," he says with a smirk, and that's exactly what we do.

It isn't _all_ we do, though. We soap each other up, covering every single inch of skin and even getting a little playful and handsy when it comes to touching each other's genitals, but we make it through the shower and come out refreshingly clean and smelling better than ever.

I smell almost like him now. I'm certain I've never smelled better being covered in _his_ bodywash. "That's better," he inhales. "Now you can smell me whenever we're not together." He grins that adorable cheeky grin that I am quickly growing to love.

He turns off the water, opens the shower door, steps out onto the bathmat, and reaches for a towel, then holds out a hand to me, and assists me in stepping out onto the mat. Then, he does something no one's done for me since I was a little, _little_ kid. He proceeds to dry me off. He takes the towel in his big hands and slowly rubs circles all over my back, before he kneels behind me and works his way across my bottom and then down the backs of my legs. He then lifts each of my feet and dries them both thoroughly, including between my toes, making me giggle. I admit I'm kinda ticklish, and now, he _knows_ it, if his smirk is anything to go by when he flicks his amused gaze up to mine.

"Ticklish, huh?" he asks, as he stands back up. I simply nod, watching him, and he waggles his eyebrows at me, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Good to know."

I feel a blush sweep through me at his teasing, and then he's gently wiping the towel across my belly, sweeping upward to palm my breasts through the towel, gently kneading them, pulling and twisting on my nipples, making me gasp, before he then dries off my arms, one at a time. Once he's finished drying me off, I grab a dry towel hanging behind him on the rack and proceed to start wiping his chest and shoulders and arms down. I motion for him to turn around, which he does, and I pat his back next, moving on to his waist and hips and buttocks, before I kneel down behind him and reach around his hips and gently clasp his dick and balls with the towel, rubbing and massaging them to dry them off, as I bury my face in his low back, pressing soft kisses to the indent of his spine. I must be doing a good job of it, because he tilts his head back and closes his eyes and moans at my ministrations, and there's no question his dick likes it, because it's quickly starting to grow hard again.

 _"Fuck, Padmé!"_ he whispers, and I can't help smiling as I feel his buttock muscles clench against my upper chest. Bending down further, I pull the towel away from his groin, tearing a groan out of him in the process and proceed to massage his thighs dry, front and back. I pause to bite his butt – literally – a little nip on each cheek before I begin drying his calves and shins. Finally, I do what he did, and I lift each of his feet and dry them thoroughly, including between _his_ toes. He must not be ticklish on his feet, because he doesn't laugh, but he _does_ shudder as I finish drying him off. He reaches a hand down to help me stand, and then he pulls me back flush against him before sliding his hands around to cup my ass, and he kisses me long and hard once more, leaving us both breathless and panting when our lips part with a soft _smack._

At that moment, a short pudgy, four-footed visitor makes his way into the bathroom, sniffing at our feet and ankles and woofing up at us. Anakin smiles, releases me, and squats down to rub Shorty's little ears affectionately. "Hey, buddy…Good Morning! You ready to go out, huh? Yeah, I bet you are…Just let me get dressed, and I'll take you out. Go get on the couch. Go on…I'll be right out." Shorty woofs in agreement, and turns and trots out of the bathroom, headed back for the living room, the sound of his nametag clinking as he walks along. Anakin stands back up and faces me, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry. I'm gonna have to take him out for a short walk."

I nod my head in understanding, "No problem. I understand. He's undoubtedly gotta go. Don't worry. I'll just hang out here till you get back, if that's okay?" I arch my eyebrows at him questioningly.

He rewards me with a brilliant smile and nods as he leads us out of the bathroom, "Yeah. That'd be great. Maybe we can grab some breakfast when I get back?" he says as he goes about getting his clothes, grabbing clean boxers, khaki shorts, and a navy blue, short sleeved polo shirt from his dresser.

I nod enthusiastically, returning his smile with one of my own. "Breakfast sounds great actually!"

"Awesome! I'll be out in a minute, if you wanna go grab your clothes from the living room? I'm sorry to rush, but I really need to take Shorty out before he makes a mess in here somewhere."

I wave him back to the bathroom as I head for the living room, "No worries. Go, go." He smiles again and shuts himself in the bathroom to get dressed, leaving me to make my way out to the living room. _Wow. We sure made a mess in here, didn't we?_ I glance around and find our clothes from last night flung far and wide across the living room. Circling the couch where Shorty is now lying and watching me closely, head on his front paws, I find my underwear and my bra and quickly put them back on. My jeans are lying across the coffee table. I pick those back up and slip them on before hunting around and finding my shirt on the floor behind the couch. I put that back on, and then just as I'm stepping back into my shoes, Anakin reappears in the living room, fully dressed, damp hair brushed, and shoes on (minus socks), carrying an expandable dog leash.

Shorty woofs again and jumps off the couch and heads straight for the front door of the apartment, his whole body wiggling excitedly, making me and Anakin both grin. I suspect he's gotta go something _bad._ Anakin walks to the door, bends down, and attaches the leash to Shorty's collar, stands back up, and says, "Sorry. We'll be back in about twenty minutes. I've got my phone with me. So, call me or text me if you need anything."

"Ok. But, I should be fine. See you in a bit," I wave them off, and Anakin smiles gratefully before opening the door and ushering Shorty out into the hallway and then closing the door. Now that I'm alone, I decide to make myself useful. I head to the kitchen first and set about making a fresh pot of coffee. I quickly find everything I need, the java and the filters, and get the coffee brewing. With that done, I head back to the living room and start gathering up Anakin's discarded clothing from last night. No question his suit is going to need to go to the cleaners, it's so full of wrinkles. I fold the jacket and pants as neatly as I can and lay them across the back of the couch. Next, I gather up his dress shirt, undershirt, boxers, socks, belt, and his shoes and I carry it all into the bedroom, setting the shoes by his dresser, the belt on his bed, and then head into the bathroom to deposit the rest of his clothes in the hamper.

With that done, I follow my nose back to the kitchen. God, I _love_ the smell of fresh brewed coffee in the morning! Rummaging round in the fridge, I find a fresh pack of bacon, a full dozen eggs, and in the vegetable drawer, I find onions, mushrooms, a green bell pepper, and some Roma tomatoes. In the deli drawer, I find a package of shredded cheddar cheese. Perfect! I love to cook myself, and since he fixed dinner for us last night, I decide to return the favor and fix us breakfast this morning. I wash the vegetables and set them in the dish drain to dry while I set about cooking the bacon. I find the frying pan from last night, and within minutes, the sound and smell of bacon sizzling on the stove wafts through the apartment. I search in the cabinets and find coffee mugs, and set about making myself a cup, adding milk from the fridge and sugar, which I find in a covered bowl on the counter. Taking a sip, I can't help sighing in pleasure. Perfect! While I continue to work on the bacon, turning it to cook it evenly, I also grab a chopping knife from the butcher block cutlery set on the counter, and then I look around and spot a cutting board by the stove. Grabbing that, I set about chopping up the washed vegetables. With that done, I grab the carton of eggs from the fridge, find a medium mixing bowl, and quickly whip up scrambled eggs to make omelettes with.

I've just pulled the last of the bacon from the pan and set it on the plate to cool, and have placed that pan in the sink, filling it with dish soap and warm water, and started sauteing the vegetables in a smaller frying pan with a little olive oil and salt and pepper when Anakin returns with Shorty. "Hi! Hope you're feeling hungry!" I call out, as I continue with our meal prep. I hear Anakin remove the leash and then he and Shorty are stepping into the kitchen, and he stares at me, a look of surprised delight on his face.

"Wow! It smells amazing in here! You didn't have to cook, though, Padmé. We could've gone out to eat." He says, grinning and shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he watches me work at the stove.

I shrug, "Yeah, but since I didn't have any clean clothes to change into, I figured this might be better…not to mention more _intimate_ than a crowded restaurant." I smile at him before deftly emptying out the sauteed veggies in another bowl and then start on the omelettes. "I made coffee. Want a cup?"

He smiles and nods, "Sounds great! But, don't worry. I can get it," he waves me off as I start for the coffee maker, and goes about fixing himself a cup of coffee. Apparently, he drinks it just black, as he skips the milk and sugar. "Can I do anything to help?" he asks as I finish up the first omelette and start on the second one.

"Want toast?" I ask over my shoulder, "If you do, you could make that since I'm a little busy at the moment."

I hear him chuckle behind me, "Yes, Ma'am." Next, I hear the sound of a loaf of bread being opened and then the click of the toaster as he pushes the handle down to make us some toast. Next the fridge door opens, and I hear him getting out butter and a jar of grape jelly. Within a few minutes, our meal is all ready, and I'm sliding our plates across the counter to the bar where we sat last night to eat dinner. He brings the toast, butter, and jelly to the table. I grab OJ from the fridge, along with some glasses from the upper cabinet, my coffee, and then he gets the napkins and silverware, and we sit down to a scrumptious smelling breakfast. He eyes his meal appreciatively, "Wow, Padmé. This looks _fantastic!"_

I smile and blush at his compliment, "Thank you. I hope you enjoy it." I pour us each a glass of OJ, and I lift my glass, "Cheers, Anakin."

He lifts his own glass and clinks it with mine, "Cheers, Padmé." Then we dig into our meal with relish.

We eat once again in companionable silence, just enjoying being together. Once we're done, we work together to clean up the kitchen, unloading the dishes from last night out of the dishwasher and putting them away before loading it up again with our breakfast dishes. As we work, we pause once or twice to stop and nuzzle each other and kiss softly. This is so amazing, so _nice,_ and so utterly different from anything I ever experienced with Rush or Palo, which only helps to solidify my belief that Anakin is the man I'm meant to be with.

Sadly, now that breakfast is done, I know the time has come for me to head back to my own apartment. I need to change into some clean clothes for one thing…but Anakin surprises me, "Padmé, I…I want to spend the whole day with you today, if you're not busy. I know you probably need to get back to your place, but…" He pauses, and I tilt my head and watch him, wondering what he wants to say.

"But, _what,_ Anakin?" I prompt him softly, my heart shining in my eyes as I stare at him.

He bites his lip, flicking his gaze to the floor, before looking back at me, his beautiful blue eyes filled with… _hope._ "But, I was wondering…Well, I'm actually _hoping…_ that you'd consider going out with me…exclusively, I mean. I realize it might be awkward, seeing's how you just broke off your engagement, but I want to spend time with you, going out and having fun together, talking and really getting to _know_ you, Padmé, and maybe spending the night with me once in a while…What do you think?" He looks so shy, and he's blushing a bit as he asks. He also sounds a tad uncertain, like he's afraid I'll turn him down.

I know a lot of people would say this is moving _way_ too fast. And, under normal circumstances, I'd say they were right. But, _nothing_ about our budding relationship could be called 'normal,' and the joy I feel explode in my gut at his words just vindicates my belief that my answer to his question is the right one to give, because I want to spend time with him, going out on dates, having fun and really getting to know him, too. And _, no way_ would I turn down any opportunity to spend the night with him. Not after what we shared last night.

Smiling from ear to ear, I lean up and kiss him softly on the lips, "I'd love to, Anakin."


End file.
